


Safe Harbor

by righteousbros



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Human Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Rape, Supernatural and J2 Big Bang Challenge, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 17:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/righteousbros/pseuds/righteousbros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Season 7 Finale.  In this AU, Dick is dead and Sam, Dean, and Castiel escape the explosion intact if a little worse for the wear.  With no immediate danger on the horizon for the first time in a long time, the boys decide to take a breather for a while for some much needed rest and recuperation.  They take Cas with them and relocate to a little bungalow by the beach.  As they settle into their new life on hiatus from hunting, Sam reveals some long-held feelings which trigger painful memories for Dean of  his time in Hell with Alastair.  Now the dark secret that Dean’s been hiding is threatening to tear him and Sam apart for good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out the amazing art that Cybel created for this story here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/902766

When Dean woke up he found himself in a hospital bed.  Not the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last.  His head felt like it was about to cave in and he had a few scratches, but nothing he couldn’t handle.  His first coherent thought was _Sam_. 

He jerked upright in bed and immediately regretted it as the pain in his head spiked to a whole new level. 

“Dean!”  In an instant Sam was by his side, pulling a chair up next to the bed.

“Sammy?” Dean croaked.  His throat felt dry as a bone.  “Are you ok?  Dick Roman?  Did we get him?”

“Yeah man, we got him” Sam said with a tired smile.  “I’m fine.  Just worried about you is all.  You’ve been unconscious for about two days running now.  Thank God you got a thick skull.  You and Cas were in the blast zone when Dick bit it.  Knocked you out cold.”

“Two days?”  Dean swallowed hard.  He was having trouble processing it all.  “Cas, is he – “

“He’s okay.   Well I mean, physically he’s okay.  The doctors here were asking him questions and of course he went and told them the truth, cause he’s Cas.  Then he started in about the goddamn bees again.  So he’s here in the psych ward on a seventy-two hour hold.  I figured it was the safest place for him while I was waiting for you to come around”. 

Dean lay back on his pillow and let out a long sigh.  Poor Cas.  Yeah, he’d set loose Sam’s memories of the Pit, gone all Godstiel on them, and let out the Leviathans.  But in the end he had tried to make it right.  Dean could appreciate what it was like to create a colossal fuckup and then have to clean up the mess.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked.

“Me?  Oh I’m just peachy,” Dean smirked.  “You?  You look like shit.  Honestly, I’m out of commission for a couple of days and you turn into an extra from The Walking Dead.”  Dean could tell that Sam hadn’t been sleeping right or eating enough.  He had bags under his eyes and looked like hadn’t had a square meal in days. 

Sam just rolled his eyes and shook his head at him in his patented Oh-Dean-You’re-Impossible kinda way.  “Thanks man.  You know I think I liked it better when you were asleep after all.”

Dean gave him a cocky little smirk and then scrubbed a hand down his face to help gather his wits.  He needed to move, needed to get back in control of his surroundings.  “Okay, first things first,” he said, ripping out his IV.

“Dean!  What do you think you’re doing?  You need to rest!” Sam shouted at him.

“And I will, Sammy.  I promise.  I’m just not staying here.  Hospitals skeeve me out.”  Dean sat up, slowly this time, and swung his feet down to the cold linoleum floor.  “Come on, take me back to the motel.  But first I need a cheeseburger.  No, make that five cheeseburgers.  Man, I’m starving!  Then I’m gonna need about a dozen aspirin and a nice cold beer to wash’em down.  After that I’ll crash for the night, okay?  I swear.”

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm to help steady him as he stood up.  “Dammit, Dean.  Okay, okay, just take it easy.  Your clothes are in the top drawer of the dresser.  I’m going to go bring the car around.” 

Dean struggled into his clothes and slipped his boots on without bothering to tie the laces.  After arguing with the charge nurse for about five minutes, she gave up and let him sign himself out.  By the time he made it to the parking lot he was already exhausted.  Sam was waiting for him in a silver sedan.

“Where’s my car?” he demanded as soon as he was settled inside.

“Well, after Meg plowed it into the SucroCorp sign, I had it towed to a garage.”

Dean felt like he was going to be sick.  “So what you’re telling me is that right now some stranger has his hands all over my baby?”

“Dude, what was I supposed to do?” Sam said exasperated.  “They’ll get it running again at least until you’re well enough to do…whatever it is you do.  Have some _alone_ time with her, I guess.”

“Never mind.”  Dean slouched down in the rental’s front seat in disgust.  “Food.  Pain meds.  Sleep.  That’s all I want to know about right now.  Tomorrow we’ll deal with everything else.”

~~~

The next morning when Dean woke up, Sam was already showered, dressed, and tapping away at the keys on his laptop.  Having a morning person for a brother could sure be a pain in the ass. 

“Coffee,” Dean grumbled as he buried his face back into his pillow.  The hotel linens were a little scratchy but they were warm from his body heat, a huge improvement over the reek of hospital disinfectant and beeping machines.

“Hey.  How’re you feeling?” Sam asked, popping his head up from behind his computer.

“Coffee!” Dean insisted. 

“Yeah yeah okay, I’m going,” Sam said, pulling on his jacket.  “There’s a Gas & Sip across the street.  Why don’t you take a shower?  I’ll be right back.”

“Hffmm,” Dean replied. 

When Sam was gone, Dean unraveled himself from the tangled up bed sheets and plodded slowly into the bathroom.  As he waited for the shower to heat up, he took a look in the mirror to assess the damage.  Christ Almighty, he was a mess.  His hair was sticking up in all different directions, he had circles under his eyes bad enough so it almost looked like he’d been sucker-punched, and he had definitely dropped a few pounds that he hadn’t actually had to spare.  By the time Sam was back with their coffees, he was at least clean and smelling a lot better.  He wrapped a towel around his waist and joined Sam at the little table by their room’s front window.  Sam handed him a paper cup of coffee and pushed a bag of donuts towards him.  God bless Sam and donuts.

“How’s your head?” Sam asked.

“It’s quieted down to a dull roar,” Dean said as he sipped his coffee.  “So?  Fill me in.  What’s the sitrep?”

“The situation is kinda good for the moment actually.  Now that Dick’s dead, the leviathans are leaderless so they’re running scared.  Crowley and his demons are working on killing them off bit by bit, and so are the vamps now that their Alpha knows Dick double-crossed him.  Oddly enough, they all seem to just want things back to the status quo – less competition over humans to worry about for both sides I guess.”

“And Kevin?”

“I don’t know what his plan is with Kevin but knowing Crowley I’m sure it’s nothing good.  Other than that, we have Cas to deal with who’s still on lockdown.”

“Wow,” Dean said after another gulp of coffee.  “Okay…I don’t even know what to do with all that.  So there’s no one I have to kill today?”

“Um…no.  Not specifically.” Sam shrugged.  “The world seems to be taking care of itself for the time being.”

“Crap.  Okay.  Well, we should work on Cas then, I guess.  What the hell do we do with a half-crazy seraph?  We can’t keep him in there forever.  Without Meg to calm him down it’s just a matter of time before he ends up smiting someone over a game of Connect Four.”

“Yeah I know.  I was thinking about that actually.  What if we called in some angel reinforcements?”

Dean raised an eyebrow at him.  “Are you serious?  Every time we tangle with those asshats something goes wrong.”

“Yeah but I think this time we might have an in.  Remember Inias?  He showed up with Hester to collect Kevin?”

“I remember Hester ending up as angel road-kill.  That was cool,” Dean said with a wicked grin.

Sam glared at him over his coffee.  “ _Inias_.  He was the one who stood up for Cas when Hester attacked him.  He might be the only angel left who would help us with this.  It’s worth a shot.”

Angels.  Suddenly Dean wished there’d been a little less cream and a lot more whiskey in his coffee.  “Are you sure?  I mean, are you really okay with going out on a limb like this for Cas?  He did break down your mind-wall or whatever and let Lucifer in,” Dean pointed out.

Sam took a long sip of his coffee to consider it before answering.  “Yeah, I am.  Look I’m not going to lie, I don’t know if I’ve really forgiven him for that yet.  It was pretty damn terrible.  But he’s been paying for it the hard way ever since he sucked all my visions into his head.  And really with all the crap I’ve done, I don’t exactly feel like I’m in a position to be casting stones.”

“I hear ya on that.”  Dean leaned back in his chair.  “I’d feel better about it if we had an angel-blade on us just in case this Inias guy doesn’t want to play ball.  But, if you’re cool with it and you think it’ll help Cas, I’m game.”

~~~

In the end, they decided to cover their asses with an Enochian sigil on the bathroom door in case Inias got frisky and needed some banishing.  Dean got dressed and gave himself a shave while Sam collected everything they needed for the summoning ritual.  When it was ready, Sam read the incantation.  Within a few moments, they could hear the sound of feathers rustling, and then Inias stood before them.  He looked about as happy as a wet cat.

“Gentlemen.  I’m using that term quite loosely of course.  You do realize that there are other concerns in Heaven and on Earth than whatever you two might need at any given moment?” Inias sneered.

Angels, Dean thought.  Always with a stick up their asses.

“Inias.  Hi.  Actually, we didn’t ask you here for us.  It’s for Cas.  Castiel.” Sam began.

“You remember Castiel don’t ya, big boy?  Nerdy little brother of yours?  Rocks a trenchcoat?” Dean quipped.

The angel actually looked concerned.  “Where is he?”

“He’s safe,” Sam offered in what Dean recognized as his best placate-the-loved-ones tone.  “It’s just, his mind is…right now he’s in a psychiatric ward.”

The air in the motel room suddenly felt electrified as Inias stared them down.  “You locked him up like he’s just another insane mud monkey?  An angel of the Lord?”

Dean inched closer to the sigil on the bathroom door. 

Sam held up his hands in a gesture of truce.  “We didn’t know what else to do!  Just listen.  He’s got my memories of Lucifer and the Cage inside his head.  But he’s managing.  I guess.  I don’t know how.  He’s crazy but he is cognizant.  The thing is, he can’t just keep white-knuckling it forever, right?  We were hoping there might be something that you could do to help him.”

Inias looked away and was quiet for a moment.  He seemed distraught.  “There is nothing I can do,” he said.

“Nothing?  That’s it?  You’re not even going to try?” Dean demanded.  He just knew this wouldn’t work.  Cas’s entire family was a big bag of dicks.

“There’s nothing _I_ can do,” Inias repeated with a warning in his voice.  “Castiel is the only one who can cleanse his mind.”

“What?” Dean asked.  “What do you mean?  Why the hell do you angels always have to be so freaking cryptic?  This whole time he could’ve fixed himself?  Just like that?”

“Not _just like that_ ,” Inias retorted.  “He probably thought it wasn’t possible because it might not be.  It might kill him.  It will most certainly require all of whatever grace he still has left.”

“What does he have to do?” Sam asked.

“He has to strip the memories from his own mind.  All of them, from the instant he first acquired them from you up to the present.  It’s a simple enough task to perform on a human mind.  But for an angel, it’s a much more complicated proposition.  Especially seeing as how he’ll have to perform this on himself and these are no ordinary memories.”

“And if he manages to do it?” Sam questioned.  “Will he be back to the old Cas?”

“Hypothetically, yes.”

Sam looked over to Dean who could do nothing but shrug in response.  If that was the only way to fix Cas, then what else could they do?

“Okay,” Sam replied.  “Um, we’ll give it a shot.  Thank you.  Also, have you heard anything about Kevin Tran?  Does Crowley still have him?”

“Regrettably he does.  The garrison, what’s left of us, is out hunting them down as we speak.  I assure you, we will not rest until the prophet has been secured.”

“Any idea what Crowley wants with him?  I’m guessing it’s not for a game of Dungeons and Dragons,” Dean snarked.

Inias shot a look of pure irritation at Dean.  “The prophet can decipher the Word of God as recorded by Metatron.  You may also know him as Enoch.  Metatron was specially selected to be one of Father’s most trusted elite.  He is one of the few of us who have ever glimpsed His true countenance.” 

Turning to Sam, Inias went on.  “Metatron is _Yode Razim_ ; the Knower of Secrets.  He has acted as God’s confidante in the creation of The Divine Plan.  His writings contain all the mysteries of the universe and its infinite complexities.  For this information to fall into the hands of someone like Crowley – well, quite simply, he could unravel the Earth.  He could rewrite destiny and claim dominion over all.  It would be catastrophic.”

The brothers gaped at Inias in stunned silence.

“Wow,” Sam chimed in finally, raking a hand through his hair.  “I had no idea that one geeky little kid like Kevin could be so important to, you know, the fate of the universe.”

“Really, Mr. Lucifer Condom?” Dean snorted.

“So,” Sam said to Inias, pointedly ignoring his brother.  “Clearly you have more important things to do than hang around a crappy motel room with a couple of humans.  Don’t let us keep you.”

“Yeah.  Thanks Inias.  We’ll let you know how things go with Cas.”

 “If he survives - ” Inias paused, looking uncomfortably close to actual emotion, “please tell him that if he needs me, he has only to call my name.”

When Inias had gone, Sam and Dean sat down on the motel beds trying to absorb everything that he’d told them. 

“Well,” Sam shrugged. “The angels are working on finding Kevin, so we better leave them to it and stay out of their way.  Besides, we have Cas to worry about at the moment.”

“Alright.  Let’s go talk to him.”

~~~

When they arrived at the hospital, Dean flirted with a frumpy-looking nurse, distracting her enough that he was able to palm her access card to the psych ward.  He and Sam snuck past the security guard and quickly located Castiel’s room.  They walked in and found him dressed in a hospital gown, perched on the edge of his bed staring off into space. 

“Hey Cas,” Dean began hesitantly.  No telling what a crazy angel might do, so Dean figured the best thing to do was treat him like skittish animal.  No sudden movements.  Calming tone of voice. “How’re ya feeling buddy?”

Castiel didn’t move a muscle.

“Listen man, we ah, we called up your brother Inias.  You remember him right?” Dean asked as he crouched down in front of Cas. 

 “Inias?” Cas rasped.

Dean soldiered on, relieved by Cas’s response.  “Yeah.  He’s a…he’s a great guy.  Anyways, he says that there might be a way to get your brain firing on all cylinders again.”

Castiel cocked his head to the side in an unspoken question. 

“Remember how you…helped Lisa and Ben?” Dean continued, amazed at how raw it still felt to think about them.  “You need to work that same mojo on yourself.  All the way back to before you took the memories from Sam.  Inias says it’s possible.  Dangerous, but possible.”

Cas shook his head slowly and looked away.

“Cas, listen to me.  You have to try.  If you don’t, you could stay like this forever.  You don’t want that do you?”

Cas remained silent but closed his eyes as if in pain.

“Inias says it’s going to burn up your grace.  Maybe that scares you.  But you gotta know man, me and Sam?  We’ll be right here for you.  No matter what.”

“You’re family Cas,” Sam assured him.  “Winchesters never leave a man behind.”

Cas looked up at Sam for a long moment, his fathomless blue eyes expressing so much regret.  Finally he whispered, “I’m sorry” and then touched two fingers to his temple.

Brilliant white light shot out from Castiel’s eyes.  Dean jumped back and instinctively stepped in front of Sam.  Cas’s mouth flew open as if in a silent scream.  His entire body was tensed and shuddering.  The reinforced windows of the room rattled and the light bulb in the overhead lamp burst in a spray of electric sparks.  Then the light from Cas’s eyes flared out and he slumped backwards on the bed.  The room was quiet once again.

“Cas!” Dean yelled, rushing to his friend’s side.

Castiel blinked rapidly back at him.  When he finally focused on Dean’s face, he scrambled up onto the bed, pinning himself against the wall.  He was breathing heavily like a frightened little kid.  “Get away from me!” he cried.  “You’re not real!”

“Cas it’s okay!” Sam coaxed. “We are real.  It’s me, Sam.  And that’s Dean.  Your friends.”

“I swear man, it’s really us,” Dean added with a tentative smile.

Castiel slowly climbed off the bed and approached Dean.  He raised a shaky hand and brushed his fingertips over Dean’s shirtsleeve lightly as if he was expecting it to burn him.  When it didn’t and he realized that Dean wasn’t some apparition, he shouted Dean’s name in relief and immediately started hugging him tightly around the neck.  Dean was shocked to say the least.  Then Cas released Dean and launched himself into Sam’s arms.

“Sam!  Oh, Sam!  Are you ok?  I’m so sorry.  I’m so, so sorry!” Cas cried, sobbing into Sam’s shoulder. 

Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the fact that he suddenly had his hands full of emotional angel.  He patted Cas’s back, trying to soothe him.  “Hey it’s okay, Cas.  I’m fine now.  Everything’s okay.”

“What’s going on in here?” An orderly broke in, peeking his head in the doorway.  “Hey!  What are you two doing?  This is a restricted-access ward.”

“Um, yeah.  Sorry.  Nurse Jenny said it was ok.  My…cousin Cas here is fine.” Dean scrambled.  “He’s just in the middle of an Ah-ha moment.  Kind of a breakthrough if you ask me.  Maybe you should page his doctor.  I think he’s ready to be released.”

The orderly shot him a skeptical look, but hurried off in search of a doctor. 

They explained to Cas what had happened to him since taking on Sam’s memories.  About Dick Roman, Crowley, Kevin, and finally Inias.  He listened, blue eyes wide as he tried to take it all in.

“Feeling better now, Cas?” Sam asked

“I think so, yes.  I’m sorry I cried all over you.  My grace - it’s depleted so far that I’m experiencing some very human reactions.  It’s surprisingly overwhelming.  Do people really walk around all day with all these…feelings?  All the time?”

“No,” Dean stated in unison with Sam who answered, “Yes.”

“Oh,” Cas frowned.  “I don’t like it”.

~~~

Several hours later, once they had coached Cas on what to say and the doctors had begrudgingly released him with a plethora of meds, they brought him back to their motel.  Sam went and picked up some Chinese for them while Dean stayed behind and had the unique experience of teaching a grown man how a shower worked.  Thankfully, Cas was a quick learner.

They let Cas watch some TV, which he seemed to take an avid interest in.  Occasionally Sam had to field a question that Cas had.  For instance, why the blonde girl’s friends were plotting to vote her off the island, and if there were cameramen recording the whole incident why didn’t they warn her about the impending betrayal.  Several times Sam had to reassure Cas that neither he nor Dean would vote him out of the motel room.  Dean just grinned at Sam, earning a bitchy scowl in return.  Finally, even Sam’s substantial patience wore thin and he announced that it was bedtime for everyone. 

Dean started to protest, but was shutdown when Sam shot him his best bitchface.  He grumbled to himself as he took off his shirt and slipped into a pair of worn flannel pajama pants.  Dean took the remaining half a six-pack with him to bed because he was a grown-ass man and if he wanted to stay awake and finish his beer then that’s what he was going to do. 

They let Cas have one the beds to himself after he decided that the most comfortable sleeping position he could find was to pile every spare pillow in the room together in the middle of the bed and then curl up in the center of them like a big cushiony nest.  Sam locked the door and shut off the light before stripping down to his boxer briefs and climbing into bed next to Dean.  Dean handed him a beer and they drank quietly sitting up in bed in the dark for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, until Cas’s even breathing indicated that he’d fallen asleep. 

“Hey Sam?” Dean whispered.

“What?”

“What are we going to do with him?  I don’t know about you, but I have no idea how to take care of someone who had to quit his angel-grace cold turkey.  We need a plan.”

“Yeah I know,” Sam whispered back.  “I think what he needs right now more than anything is just to feel safe.  He’s got a lot going on inside him.  He’s got to learn how to be human.  We need to take him somewhere for a while and just give him time to adjust.”

Dean considered it as he polished off his beer and traded the empty bottle for a full one from the six-pack on the floor.  He popped the top off as quietly as he could, glancing over at Cas who didn’t even stir.  “So what, we lay low for a while somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Like a sabbatical from hunting until we get Cas straightened out and figure out what our next move is.  Probably the best time for it seeing as how most of the monsters we’re normally running around killing are all tied up at the moment trying to gank each other.”

“Take a vacation?  Us?” Dean marveled.

“Don’t you think we deserve one by now?”

To be totally honest with himself, Dean felt torn.  Part of him was more than happy to get some R&R but another part of him was really not a fan of change.  Even the pajama pants he was wearing were a good six years old and he’d only bought them when Sam had actually thrown out his favorite old pair that had holes worn around the elastic.  “Where do you wanna go?” he asked.

“I was thinking someplace warm.  You think Cas would like the ocean?”

Dean let out a quiet chuckle.  “Yeah, but I’m not going to be the one to teach him how to swim.  That’s all you bro.”

“I’m serious.  I think it would be good for all of us.”

“Okay, okay.  We’ll look into it tomorrow.” Dean chugged down some beer.

Sam nodded, placing his empty beer on the nightstand and settling down on his side, facing away from Dean to go to sleep.  Dean sat in silence for a few moments, sipping on his bottle.  He realized that he actually felt better than he had in a long time.  He and Sam were both okay.  Cas was on the way to being okay.  Nothing was hunting them, and there was nothing out there in the dark that really required hunting.  It was just – freaky.  Almost unnerving really.

“Hey Sam?” Dean whispered.

“What?”

“Do you think Baby will be out of the shop tomorrow?”

Sam sighed.  “Dean, go to sleep.”

Dean smiled to himself.  He fell asleep that night listening to the sound of Sam snoring peacefully next to him and he couldn’t have been happier.


	2. Chapter 2

“Here you go sir,” the mechanic said dropping the keys into Dean’s open palm.  “I pulled it around front for you.  That really is a sweet ride.”

“Thanks – Marcus,” Dean replied, checking the guy’s nametag.

Dean swung open the door of the auto body shop with a tinny jingle of hanging chimes.  When he caught sight of the Impala, his heart instantly warmed.  _Baby_.  She had a few battle scars, but honestly he’d expected worse.  She was a tough old broad. 

Dean ran his hands lovingly over her shiny black hide, checking Marcus’s handiwork.  Not bad.  But his fingers itched to get his hands on some tools and get her fully mint again.  That would have to wait unfortunately.  There was a lot of other stuff on his plate at the moment.  The first of which literally made his skin crawl.  He had to go shopping.

He’d lost two out of three rounds of rock-paper-scissors with Sam which meant that he had to run errands while Sam did some research on where they could take Cas while he was angel-detoxing.  Sam had instructed him to get Cas some new ID cards, food that didn’t come from a drive-through window, and some normal clothes to wear.  The ID cards were easy enough.  There was always at least one pimply-faced kid in every copy store he’d ever been to who was willing to make a quick hundred bucks.  In just under 60 minutes, Castiel Novak – 5’11”, brown hair, blue eyes, born August 20, 1976, from Pontiac, Illinois had been created from scratch.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough to pass until they could afford better.

Once in the grocery store, Dean realized that he had no idea what Cas liked other than cheeseburgers because that’s all he’d ever seen the guy really eat.  He doubted if Cas even knew.  He thought back to when Sammy was little and they were on the road with their dad.  More often than not he’d been responsible for keeping Sammy fed while John had been out hunting for days on end.  When Sam had been around eight-years old he’d gone through a finicky phase where all he’d wanted to eat was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Spaghetti-O’s.  Dean figured he might as well stick with those old standbys since they’d worked well enough before. 

The clothes part was trickier.  There was no way in hell he was setting foot in a fucking department store.  On a spark of inspiration, Dean went a couple of blocks over to a church thrift store.  He snagged Cas an old army jacket, a couple of pairs of jeans that had probably seen better days, and a pair of Chucks that looked to be the right size.  Then he found the t-shirt bins that offered ten for five dollars.  Yahtzee!  He grabbed a random armload of them and tossed them into his cart.  All in all, he felt pretty damned pleased with himself.

When he got back to the motel, Sam was busy on his computer as always and Cas was sitting on the end of his bed watching TV.  Apparently he thought that the History Channel was simply hilarious. 

“I got you all kinds of stuff, buddy!” Dean beamed as he tossed Cas the clothing bags and went to their little kitchenette to put away the groceries.  “And, I got you onto the grid.  You’re officially Castiel Novak.  I figured since you’re using Jimmy’s old body you might as well use his last name too.”

“Thank you Dean,” Cas said as he picked through the bags.  He pulled out a white t-shirt that had a red, white, and blue Hands Across America 1986 logo on it.  “I like these very much.”

“So, any progress on where to go to next?” Dean asked Sam as he put together some sandwiches.

“Yeah actually,” Sam said, shutting his laptop.  “How do you feel about Florida?”

“Florida?” Dean shot a look over his shoulder at Sam.  “You know they eat people down there.”

Cas looked up from his shopping bags and over to Sam in a panic.  “I don’t want to go to Florida.”

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed.  “Cas, they do not eat people in Florida.  It’s perfectly safe there.  Those were a few isolated incidents of people who got high on bath salts.  A different kind of bath salts – not the stuff they sell in stores to make you smell good.”

Cas furrowed his brow as he mulled that information over but seemed pacified for the moment.  He turned his attention back to the TV and a documentary about Ancient Greece.

“What I was going to say was,” Sam continued with a pointed look at Dean, “I got in touch with an old friend of Bobby’s.  He’s got a beach house that’s empty right now in Daytona.”

“Oh great,” Dean groaned, pausing to lick some peanut butter off of his thumb.  “You’re sending us to the White Trash Riviera.”

“Dude, look at us.  We live out of skeezy motel rooms and the trunk of our car – which is mostly filled with guns.  We are white trash.  We’ll fit right in.”

“Fair point,” Dean conceded.  He handed Cas a sandwich.  “Here.  This is lunch.”

Dean plopped himself into the chair across from Sam and tossed him a sandwich as well before taking a big bite of his own.  “Daytona, huh?  Isn’t that kind of a big biker hangout?  They do that Bike Week thing down there every year.”

“Exactly” Sam nodded.  “That’s why Bobby’s friend Jesse likes it.  I guess he’s a Harley Davidson nut or something.  He usually rents out the house for the part of the year when he’s not there, but he said we could hang out for a while free of charge.  Bobby did him a solid back in the day by ganking some poltergeist.  I guess he figures by doing us a favor he’s paying it forward.”

Dean chewed thoughtfully for a minute.  “You know, usually where there are bikers there are dive bars.”

Sam frowned in confusion.  “Yeah.  So?”

“So, I was just thinking that it might not be too hard to scare up a few backroom poker games for myself.  Maybe hustle some pool.  Make us a little money.”

“We have to be careful with that shit now,” Sam warned.  “You’re used to scamming people and then ditching town.  We have to stay there for a while this time.  Not a good idea to piss off the neighbors.”

“I can be subtle.”  When Sam just arched an eyebrow at him, Dean rolled his eyes.  “I guess I can look for a construction job like I had in Cicero.”  When he was playing house with Lisa, he thought to himself.  Cause that ended up going so well. 

“That works,” Sam decided.  “I can tend bar or maybe get some tutoring gigs once Cas is settled in.  I figure he’s going to need someone to keep an eye on him at first but maybe once he gets comfortable we can figure out something for him to do to keep him busy.”

“Hey Cas?” Dean called, pulling Cas’s attention away from the TV.  “You got any special skills?”

Cas thought for a moment.  “Regrettably I can’t fly anymore or heal the sick, but I do have over a millennia of experience in hand to hand combat as a warrior of God.  And I speak several thousand different languages and dialects.  Although, many of them haven’t been spoken by man in centuries.  I don’t know how useful those ones will be.”

“Well, there’s that.” Dean raised his eyebrows and looked over at his brother.  Sam just laughed.

 

~~~

It took about 21 hours to drive from Chicago to Daytona with him and Sam trading off so each one could get at least a few hours of sleep.  Cas apparently had the bladder of a little girl now that he was human, so they had to make more stops than the brothers were used to.  At least he didn’t fight with Dean over the radio like Sam did.  If he never had to listen to another Dave-fucking-Matthews Band song it would be too soon. 

They drove through downtown Daytona Beach, which on first impression was a long gaudy strip of hotels and bars catering to spring-breakers and tourist crowds.  As they neared their new address, the neighborhoods seemed relatively low-key with a mix of rental houses and year-round family residences.  The summer tourist season was clearly ramping up, but was maybe about another couple of weeks from hitting full force. 

When they found the beach house, it was a little sea green bungalow with white trim and an enclosed front porch that was tucked back from the street under the shade of some trees.  Sam pulled the Impala into the car port and cut the engine.  “We’re home guys!” he beamed, giving them a megawatt smile. 

Apparently Jesse’s old lady had a real thing for seashells.  The entire bungalow was decorated in a real beachy theme with distressed whitewashed furniture, soft blue and green cushions, and shells accenting just about every surface.  Kitschy maybe, but comfortable and inviting.  Dean dropped his duffel bag and collapsed onto the couch with a sigh.  Yeah, he could get used to this whole vacation thing.

“Jesse said that there’s a master bedroom and a guest bedroom.” Sam settled down onto an oversized armchair.  “I figure we can give Cas the smaller room and we can either split the master or flip for the couch.”

Dean briefly considered the hassle of sleeping on the couch every night and how screwed Sam’s back would be if he tried to fit all nine feet of himself on it.  “Na, I’m fine with splitting the master if you are.  But if – scratch that - _when_ I bring a girl back here for a little action, your ass is on the couch.” 

Sam’s jaw tensed and he rolled his eyes but didn’t comment.  He craned his neck over towards the doorway of the kitchen where Cas was opening and closing the cabinets drawers.  “Hey Cas, why don’t you go drop your stuff in the small bedroom and then you can come with me to get some supplies.”

“I just went to the store,” Dean argued, when Cas wandered away to find his room.

“We can’t live on PB&J alone,” Sam retorted.  “Besides, we need other stuff too.  Shampoo, laundry detergent, a razor and a toothbrush for Cas - “

“I get it, I get it,” Dean said holding his hands up in surrender.  “You go.  I’ll get us all unpacked and settled in.  Don’t forget the whiskey.  And pie!”

 

~~~

A couple of hours later, Dean was sitting at a small dining table out on the porch cleaning his guns when he heard the backdoor open and Sam and Cas’s voices as they unloaded the car.   Sam walked out to the porch carrying a plastic bag.  “Hey.  Got you something,” he said brightly, tossing the bag to Dean.

Dean opened it and found a pair of navy blue swim trunks and brown leather flip-flops.  He shot a questioning look at Sam.

“The beach is about four blocks away,” Sam offered, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I figured we could take Cas.”

The beach was relatively vacant when they arrived, since it was a weekday; just a few mothers with young kids and a group of teenagers who were probably playing hooky from school.  They picked a spot in the sand where they stripped off their t-shirts and laid out their towels.  “Come here Cas,” Sam motioned, pulling a bottle of lotion out of his backpack and tossing it to him.  “Spread a thin layer of this on your skin.  You’re too pale to be running around out here without sun protection.”

“This substance will protect me from the sun?” Cas questioned skeptically as he inspected a pool of it in his palm.

“Yes.  Hey, you know what?  I bet Jesse’s wife would really like it if we brought her back some more shells.  Why don’t you walk around and see if you can find some?  They’re usually down by the waterline.  Just don’t go too deep into the ocean.  Stop when the water gets up to your knees.”

Cas grinned and jogged away from them across the sand. 

“And don’t talk to strangers!” Dean called after him.  “How’s he doing you think?” he asked when he and Sam had both stretched out on their backs.

“Good overall.  He’s great with direct orders.  All those centuries of being God’s good little soldier.  But he’s got to learn how to think for himself eventually.”

“He will.  You’re good with him.  Patient.  Much more than I would be.”

“I don’t know.  You’re not so terrible,” Sam commented, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smile.  “You always took good care of me.”

Dean made a noncommittal noise and closed his eyes against the sun.  He listened to the wind and waves until he dozed off. 

Some time later, he felt Sam jostling his shoulder.  “Dean, wake up.”

“Huh?” he asked groggily.  “Where’s Cas?”

“Cas is fine.  He’s wading in the water.  You have to turn over.  You’re getting burnt.”

Dean grumbled but he flipped over on his stomach. 

“Here,” Sam muttered, squirting some lotion into his hands.  “Let me get your back”. 

Sam starting smoothing the lotion out over the expanse of Dean’s shoulders and upper back.  Dean felt his brother’s large calloused hands rub over his skin and it soothed him immediately.  He closed his eyes and felt the tension melt right out of his muscles.  A light breeze twirled around them, filling his lungs with fresh ocean air.  Sam’s thumb hit a knot under his right shoulder blade and Dean made a little unconscious grunt of pleasure in his throat.  Sam’s hands stilled for a second and then continued downwards. 

He was almost finished when his fingertips accidentally grazed a sensitive spot on Dean’s flank just above the top of his trunks.  Dean’s hips jerked automatically in response. 

“Ha!  M’ticklish,” he mumbled, totally blissed out from the warm sun and the coconut smell of the lotion. 

Sam flinched hard and made some kind of noise that Dean couldn’t quite decipher through the lazy haze in his brain.  By the time those big hands took up their rhythmic motions again across his skin, Dean simply didn’t care.

They stayed on the beach until sunset, watching the sun burn down to an ember on the horizon.  Cas was covered in sand, sticky with mixture of salt and sweat, and grinning like a madman.  He’d gathered up a large cache of shells that he held carefully in his cupped hands the entire walk back to the bungalow.  “I like the beach very much,” he told them.  Sam showed him how to use the outdoor shower behind the house so he wouldn’t track sand in. 

When they all had cleaned themselves up, Dean ordered a couple of pizzas.  After all, one of the most important things about living in a new place was figuring out the best delivery food.  Dean showed Cas how to fold his slice and hold it one-handed like a pro because people who ate their pizza with a knife and fork were committing sacrilege and just plain wrong.  Cas nodded solemnly at Dean’s instruction.  His eyes went wide on his first bite.  “I think I like pizza even better than the beach,” he announced. 

All three of them sprawled out on the couch as they ate to flip through the channels.  When Dean found _The Usual Suspects_ , he stopped on it immediately. 

“Really, Dean?  Again?” Sam whined.

“Dude, Cas has never seen it.  It’s an important part of his education,” Dean pointed out.

Both of them ended up getting a huge kick out of it when Cas’s jaw dropped open on the reveal of Keyser Soze.  That sparked a long animated argument over what movies Cas absolutely needed to see and which ones he should be protected from at all costs.  Sam and Dean both agreed against anything involving either Lindsay Lohan or Amanda Bynes, but they butted heads about Steven Segal, Dean insisting that _Hard to Kill_ was a classic and not by any means “lame”. 

Soon enough they were all yawning, exhausted by the long drive and an afternoon in the sun.  When Dean climbed into bed next to Sam, he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.  It was one of the best days he’d had in long time.

 

~~~

Dean woke up with a band of fire across his chest.  At least that’s what it felt like.  He looked down and saw Sam’s arm slung over him, putting pressure on his sun burnt skin.  Sometime during the night Sam must have turned and curled up against him.  Dean made a mental note to tease him about it later.  In the meantime, he slithered out from under Sam’s sasquatch reach and headed for the shower.

Cas was already in the livingroom watching cartoons when Dean walked through and into the kitchen.  “Mornin’ Cas!” Dean called out to him, heading straight for the coffeepot to get it brewing.  “How did you sleep?”

“Good morning, Dean.  I didn’t sleep very well at all unfortunately,” Cas replied.

“Bad dreams?”

“Yes,” Cas frowned.  “I keep having this dream where I’m flying again.  It’s glorious.  But then my wings disappeared and I fell.  I fell for a very long time.”

Dean didn’t know what in the fuck to say to that.  He had a lot of experience with nightmares, but they were always about trying to escape something hellish.  Never about the painful lack of something divine. 

He fished a mug out of the cupboard with a Salty’s Crab Shack logo on the side and poured himself some coffee before joining Cas in the livingroom.  They watched Bugs Bunny get the best of Elmer Fudd for a while in companionable silence until Sam wandered into the living room rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Coffee?” he mumbled.

“In the pot,” Dean instructed.  “Dude, where’s your laptop?  I need to look up some phone numbers for jobs.  I think I’m going to do a little driving around today and see if I can’t scare me up a construction gig.”

“Already?” Sam asked in surprise, emerging from the kitchen with his coffee.  “Dean, we just got here.  I thought maybe you’d like to just chill for a few more days at least.  You know.  Relax.”

“Na, you know me.  I’m better at keeping busy than staying put.  I’m like a shark – gotta keep swimming or else I’ll drown.”

“Actually that’s a popular misconception,” Cas chimed in.  “There are only about a dozen species of sharks that require perpetual forward motion to pass water through their gills and oxygenate their blood.  The majority – “

“Thanks Cas,” Dean interrupted.  “Let me guess.  The Discovery Channel?”

“No.  I was there when they evolved.  But the Discovery Channel is most informative.”

Sam took Cas back to the beach while Dean spent most of the day looking for a construction outfit that was hiring.  He decided to introduce himself as Dean Smith just in case anyone decided to do a background check.  Dean Smith was a solid citizen without a blemish on his record, but Dean Winchester could not claim the same. 

Lucky number seven in his job hunt turned out to be the winner.  His new boss Eduardo seemed like a nice enough guy.  His family had been in the business for twenty years so far; with Ed’s three brothers and two sisters all having at least some hand in the daily responsibilities that kept the company running.  Family working together.  Dean could get behind that.

When he got back, Sam was sitting at the table on the screened in porch with Cas teaching him how to play poker.

“Oh man, I’m gone for a few hours and I come back to find you’ve turned Cas into Rainman?” Dean joked.

“Rainman was blackjack,” Sam pointed out.  “He’s pretty damn good at this actually.  He’s definitely got the whole poker face thing down cold.”

“I made a friend today Dean,” Cas informed him excitedly. 

This should be interesting, Dean thought.  No potential for disaster there.  “Oh yeah?  Who?”

“Her name is Alissa.  I met her on the beach.  She’s very nice.  Aesthetically speaking she’s what Sam informs me is a babe.”

“Seriously?” Dean asked stunned.  He looked accusingly at Sam.  “Cas scored a chick before me?  I thought you were going to keep an eye on him.”

“I did,” Sam insisted.  “He’s got to learn how to deal with other people sometime.  She seemed like a nice girl.”

“She teaches kindergarten, which is not what the literal German translation implies.  It has nothing to do with gardening but a lot to do with children.  She thinks I’m funny,” Cas smiled.

Oh Christ. 

“She invited us to go out with her and her friends tonight.  Some place about a five minute walk from here.  What do you think?” Sam asked.

Cas looked at him hopefully with big blue puppy dog eyes.  What the hell. 

“Far be it from me to c-block a friend,” Dean shrugged.  “You know how everything works with that right?  Insert tab A into slot B?  Or you know - whatever tickles your pickle.”

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed with a full-on bitchface.  “We’re just meeting them for drinks.  He doesn’t need to know that yet.  You’re not teaching him to be a man-whore like you.”

“I know how human intercourse works, Dean.  The pizza man taught me,” Cas reminded him.  “Although it seems unnecessarily messy.  And loud.”

“I am not a man-whore,” Dean shot back at Sam with mock indignation, ignoring Cas.  “It’s not my fault that I’m irresistible.”

“Wow.  And so humble too,” Sam retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Shut-up,” Dean told him.  “As it turns out, I have some news of my own.  Dean Smith got a job today.  I start tomorrow.”

“Congratulations Dean,” Cas said.

“Wow that was quick,” Sam blinked.  “Good for you.”

“Damn straight.  I’m in the mood for a little celebrating,” Dean said with a wolfish grin.

 

~~~

The Daily Pint was small and crowded for Thursday night.   It was definitely a locals spot with cheap Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, dartboards, and an outdated big screen TV in the corner.  Apparently Cas’s new friend Alissa bartended there when school wasn’t in session.  Alissa was a slim little blonde with a pixie haircut and brown eyes.  She lit up as soon as she spotted Cas. 

“Castiel!” she called out, waving to him from the back corner booth.  Cas made a beeline for her, cutting through the crowd with Sam and Dean in tow. 

“Hello,” Cas said shyly when they’d reached her table, looking more nervous than Dean had ever seen him. 

“Nice to see you again, Alissa,” Sam smiled, taking over the introductions.  “This is Dean.”

“Dean Smith,” Dean offered, shaking her hand and flashing a smile.  “I’m Cas’s cousin.  On his mother’s side.”

“Hi Dean,” Alissa smiled back.  “These are my friends Katie and Emily.”

Katie was a curvy blonde with mischievous smile that instantly piqued Dean’s interest.  He knew a good time when he saw one.  Emily was a petite brunette with big brown doe eyes that seemed just Sam’s type.  The night was suddenly looking promising for everyone.  “I think we need some shots here.  STAT.” Dean proclaimed, winking at Katie.

 

~~~

Several rounds and about 10 bucks worth of jukebox songs later, Dean was sitting at the bar with his arm around Katie and was telling her what he thought was a perfectly hilarious story about a woman he and Sam had met in New Orleans.  He of course neglected to mention that she was actually a voodoo priestess.  Katie was smiling and casually touching his knee, giving him all the right come-hither signals.  This one’s a done deal, he thought to himself. 

When he finished his story she laughed and placed a light kiss on his cheek, excusing herself to the ladies room.  As soon as she’d gone, Dean polished off his whiskey and looked around for Sam and Cas. 

Cas and Alissa were huddled together in their booth talking, with Alissa giggling at just about everything Cas said.  Way to go Cas.

Sam was on the other side of the bar tossing back his drink like he was on a mission.  Emily was nowhere in sight.  Uh-oh.

Dean took the empty bar stool next to Sam who didn’t even look up at him.  “Everything ok bro?  Where’s your girl?”

“Sh’not my girl,” Sam slurred.  “She had to go home, she said.”

“What happened?”

“No, no, no, nothing happened.  She’s nice, I guess.  I think she liked me, but…”

“But?” Dean coaxed.  Wow, he hadn’t seen Sam this drunk in a long time.  Something was clearly wrong.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sam mumbled, downing some more whiskey.

“Okay, Chief.  You’re coming outside with me to get some air,” Dean ordered, hauling Sam up.  They passed by Cas and Alissa on their way out the back door.

“Is everything okay?” Alissa asked when she caught sight of Sam stumbling outside ahead of Dean.

“Oh yeah, we’re fine,” Dean assured her.  “You two kids hang out here.  Sam just had one too many.  Happens to the best of us.  Can you let Katie know I’ll be right back?”

When Dean walked outside into the cool night air, Sam was leaning with his back against a van in the parking lot under the harsh glow of a security light.  “Now, tell me what happened,” Dean demanded. 

“Nothing I swear!  She seems perfectly nice,” Sam shrugged.

“Then why did you decide to crawl into the bottom of a bottle tonight?  Something’s eating you,” Dean insisted.

“S’nothing man.  I’m just not into her.  Let it go,” Sam mumbled staring at the ground.

“What’s the matter with you?  She’s adorable,” Dean argued.  Something was not adding up here.  Then it dawned on him.  “Oh I get it.  You’re jealous!  You like Katie.  She might be a little fast for you Sammy, but if you want her I’ll point her in your direction.  Not a problem.”

“I’m going back inside.  I need another drink,” Sam blurted suddenly.  He managed to take only a few steps towards the door before Dean blocked his path.

“No way.”  Dean held him back at arm’s length.  “You’re officially cut-off.  I’m serious, Sam.  Don’t be pissed.  Talk to me.”

Sam tried to push Dean’s hands away but when Dean wouldn’t let him go, Sam snapped.  He grabbed Dean’s shoulders and slammed him back against the van.  Before Dean could react, Sam was crushing his lips against Dean’s mouth.

It was rough and needy and it completely knocked every coherent thought out of Dean’s head.  Soft lips.  The sweet familiar burn of whiskey on his tongue.  Dean’s body responded automatically to the wave of pure heat that radiated off of Sam and for a moment he lost himself.  His whole world telescoped down to focus just on Sam’s mouth and he kissed him back.  For a brief moment, God help him, he kissed back.  Then he remembered who he was and who he was kissing.  His brother.  His little brother.

“No!” Dean shouted, pushing Sam away.

Sam’s face went red with shame.  He looked so hurt.  Like a kicked puppy.  He gaped at Dean for a second, neither of them capable of speech.  Then he ran off into the night, leaving Dean alone behind the bar.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey man, good work today!  You’re making the rest of us look bad,” Eduardo joked.  A puff of sawdust flew up from Dean’s t-shirt where Ed clapped him on the back as he walked away towards his truck. 

Dean gave him a wave and rubbed the sweat off of his brow with his forearm.  He climbed into the Impala and drove for home.  He was filthy and already sore all over.  Tomorrow he’d probably be in seven different kinds of agony.  He’d worked damn hard all day at the construction site, happy to throw himself completely into the physical rigors of the job so that he could shut his mind off and not think about the night before.  Except it hadn’t worked at all.

All Dean to could think about was that moment behind the bar.  It had come totally out of left field.  Sam was broody and drunker than he’d seen him in a long while.  He’d tried to get to the bottom of it and when Sam tried to evade him, he had kept pushing.  Then before he knew what was happening, Sam had slammed him against a parked van and kissed him.  Like an honest-to-God mind-blowing kiss. 

Dean didn’t know what to think about the kiss itself, so he shelved it down deep inside him along with the warehouse of other shit that he partitioned off as Stuff To Deal With: Never.  The part that came after the kiss was what he’d been wrestling with.  He had pushed Sam away, and Sam had run off without a word of explanation.  He didn’t know what was going on with Sam to make him do what he’d done.  He could chalk it up to the alcohol maybe.  Dean had used that excuse himself to rationalize away all manner of sins in the past.  But then why kiss him and not Emily who’d been flirting with Sam all night?  Maybe what Sam wanted wasn’t Emily at all, but another guy? That thought alone had sent Dean’s mind spinning for most of the morning. 

But okay, he could rationalize that one too if that was the case.  Sam had been drunk and horny, and in the moment he’d reacted to being close to another guy.  The fact that the other guy had been Dean had nothing to do with it.  He’d just been confused and acted out.  Maybe Sam was actually gay and had kept it from him?  Or bisexual maybe, because of course there had been plenty of girls in the past that Sam had been attracted to.  He’d been ready to marry Jessica, hadn’t he?  Dean wondered how long Sam had been aware of these other feelings or if he had even really come to terms with them.  Poor guy. 

Dean knew he didn’t have the best track record of what anyone might call sympathetic or understanding reactions to Sam’s personal secrets.  Ruby and her damn demon blood was a classic example of that.  But that had been all kinds of fucked up.  This was totally different.  Dean was nothing if not opened minded when it came to sex.  He joked around a lot, and some of it might come off as a sort of a caveman-mentality and borderline homophobic, but that wasn’t how he really felt.  He’d seen so much terrible shit over the years that he knew full well how important it was to just do whatever makes you happiest in the moment.  Life is too fucking short for close-minded nonsense.  He wouldn’t begrudge anyone their chance at happiness, especially his own brother.

The hurt he’d seen in Sam’s eyes that night was what bothered Dean most of all.  Sam must think he hated him now or something.  He hadn’t even talked to him since the incident.  Dean had just let him go after it happened, not capable of handling the situation and not willing to chase after him.  He had made excuses for Sam when he rejoined Cas, Alissa, and Katie in the bar.  After he’d taken the girls home, gently rejecting Katie’s obvious invitation to pick up where their heavy flirting had left off, he’d returned home with Cas to find Sam passed out in bed fully clothed.  Normally Dean didn’t mind having to share a bed with Sam in the limited space that the beach house offered, but with everything that had happened that night, he felt way too awkward about it.  Instead he’d slept on the couch, not even bothering to make it up into a proper bed.  In the morning, he’d gotten up early and had been out of the house before Sam had woken up. 

Dean pulled the Impala into the driveway of the beach house and shut off the engine.  There was no way of avoiding it anymore.  He was going to have to confront Sam about what had happened.  He hated moments like this, whatever the circumstances, but he knew that this little talk was going to be particularly excruciating for everyone involved.  Great.  Just great.

When Dean walked in, Cas was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table coloring.  In a coloring book.  With crayons.  What the fuck?

“Cas?  What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“Oh, hello Dean.” Cas said.  “I’m coloring.  Alissa’s niece Carolyn showed me how.  It’s very soothing.”

“Okay…where’s Sam?”

“He went for a run on the beach.”

“Oh.”  Okay, so their awkward conversation would have to wait.  That was just fine by him.

Dean fixed them both a quick dinner of some boxed mac and cheese and settled in front of the TV with a beer. 

Cas sat with him for a while but eventually shuffled off to his room to chat on the phone with Alissa before he went to sleep.  He was like a teenager with his first crush.  Which, yeah he pretty much was.  Except for the whole being older than Stonehenge thing.   

Dean stuck Cas’s meticulously colored pictures to the fridge.  He figured Sam would get a kick out of them.  Whenever it was that he decided to get his emo ass home, that is.  Obviously Sam’s excuse of “going for a run” was long past overdue.  He was probably sitting on the beach right now angsting.  Not that Dean was waiting up for him - or worried about him.  Cause he definitely wasn’t.

~~~

Sam had run until his lungs felt like they were going to burst and his leg muscles were screaming.  It didn’t help a thing.

That was hours ago now.  It was dark and chilly down there on the sand with only a silver of moon to light the crest of the waves, but he was too far into his own head to notice. 

He had kissed Dean.

Years and years of dreaming of that moment, never really believing it would happen, and when it finally did, it was because of a few seconds of drunken reckless insanity.  Not that any amount of alcohol could ever obscure that instant of perfection in his mind.  It almost made him wish that time on Earth could be stretched and manipulated like his time in the Cage.  That way, each second with his lips sliding against the heaven that was his brother’s mouth could last for hours.

But the cost...what if he’d screwed them up forever?  For the first time in their lives, they weren’t chasing anything or being chased.  They had time to breathe and figure out what they really wanted.  Sam had always known that above all else, what he wanted was Dean. 

Once upon a time he had hoped that Stanford would’ve changed that.  He thought that going away to college would have given him enough distance to get what had at the time felt like the ultimate sin out of his system.  Sam was a smart guy.  He knew that what he felt for Dean wasn’t normal by conventional standards.  He knew that people would think that he was disgusting or broken somehow.  So he’d tried.  When Brady had forced him to get out of the dorm and finally have some fun he’d met Jess, and he’d thought that she would be the answer to his problems.  She was gorgeous and smart, funny and impossibly sweet.  Sam had loved her in his way.  It seemed disloyal to her and their time together to call it anything less.  But when Dean had come barreling back into his life, it was as if no time had passed at all.  And then the fire had happened. 

Ever since that night, they’d been in a near nonstop struggle just to stay alive.  But behind it all, those desires had never truly dissipated, even when the fights between them had been at their worst.  The deepest kind of love can cause the deepest kind of pain. 

Living in each other’s pockets again had been an exercise in temptation.  Dean’s rakish charm coupled with his impossibly beautiful face and body had always drawn people to him.  They’d traded on that fact countless times on hunts or scams over the years, and Sam had fallen victim to the same back about the time he’d hit puberty.  When they’d been reunited, he’d known that it would be something that he’d have to wrestle with on a daily basis. 

What he hadn’t expected to happen was to fall in love all over again with the man his brother had become.  As damaged as Dean was, he still had moments of childlike glee in the little things that gave him joy.  With everything that he’d been through, some of which Sam still didn’t know the full extent of, he was so caring and so selfless.  He gave everything of himself in everything that he did because he didn’t know how to be any other way.  He was brave of course, no one could dispute that, but most people never knew how sensitive he could be too, and how thoughtful he was without even trying.  Sam hadn’t stood a chance.  But just as he had when they were young, Sam had ruthlessly shoved his feelings for his brother aside rather than upset the single most important relationship in his life.  He never thought he could have Dean as anything more than a best friend and a brother, so he had all but resigned himself to that fact.

Then he’d messed up and let his body take over when his brain was busy swimming in Jack Daniels.  The kicker was that before Sam had been pushed away, Dean had definitely kissed him back.

Now Sam had a choice to make.  He could try and pretend that it never had happened.  Dean would probably let him too, because lord knows his brother was a world-class champion in denial.  On the other hand, he could choose to risk confronting Dean directly about it.  The fallout could go a few different ways.  Dean might flip out, and try to make up some excuses.  Or he might clam up and refuse to talk about it at all. 

Then there was the longshot – the slim chance that Dean would admit that at least for a little while, he’d been into it too.

~~~

When Sam finally walked in, it was already dark.  He must have run half-way to Texas, Dean thought.  Dean was on the couch, playing like he was asleep.  He’d heard Sam before he was even fully inside the house, his hunter’s senses broadcasting his brother’s every movement even as he tried to hide it.  That was one advantage that he’d always had over Sam.  His little brother might be annoyingly taller than him but those extra inches also made him clumsier.  When Sam tried to sneak past him, he shot out an arm and grabbed him by the wrist.  As expected, Sam startled and stumbled back a few steps.

“Jesus Dean!  You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Dean opened his eyes and regarded his brother.  He was all sweaty and he smelled like the beach.  “That’s what you get for banging around here like a goddamn moose.  Dad taught you better than that.”

Sam yanked his arm out of Dean’s hold.  “I’m going to shower.”

“No you’re not,” Dean corrected him.  “You’re going to sit your ass down right now.  We gotta talk.”

Sam stiffened.  “Can we do this tomorrow?  I’m tired, okay?  I just want to go to bed.”

“You’re the one who decided to run a marathon around Daytona just to avoid me, so tough shit man, we’re doing this here and now.”

Sam’s eyes darted around for a moment like he was considering possible escape routes.  After a moment of hesitation, he took a seat in the armchair.  His expression was one of a man facing a firing squad.  “Where’s Cas?”

“He’s in his room, on the phone with Alissa.  Now, what the hell happened to you last night?”

“I was drunk,” Sam stated flatly. 

“I’ve seen you drunk Sam.  What you were last night was plastered.  I want to know why.”

Sam fidgeted with a loose thread in the fabric of the chair.  “No reason.  I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

Dean held his breath and counted to ten.  When Sam didn’t want to talk about something it was like pulling teeth to get anything out of him.  “You think I’m doing this for my health here, Sam?  You know I’d rather do just about anything than have this conversation with you.”

“So then why not just let it go?” Sam snapped.  He was gripping the armrests of his chair so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

“Because you kissed me!” Dean shot back.

Sam paled.  His mouth gaped open and shut like a fish.  “I-I. Dean, I-“, he stammered. 

Dean had never seen him look so stricken.  “It’s okay, Sammy.  I get it.”

Sam stared at him with wide panicked eyes.  “W-What?”

“You could have told me you idiot,” Dean chided him.  “I mean did you really think I’d be mad at you?  Come on Sammy, give me some credit.”

Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “You’re not mad?  Honestly?”

“Of course I’m not mad!  It’s not like you did anything wrong.  I mean, you misfired a bit when you kissed _me_.  But hey, no permanent damage done, right?”

“Dean, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I figured it out, Sam.  Like you said, you were drunk.  You were confused.  You just…reacted.  If it was some other guy there instead of me you probably would have been making out with him.  I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Sam looked at him like he’d gone insane.  “Wow, Dean.  I know you’re a fucking master of self-delusion but this is a whole new level, even for you.”

Dean suddenly felt his control on the situation start to slip like sand through his fingers.  “What?  What the fuck do you mean?  This isn’t about me.  It’s about you being gay.”

“Bi.  I guess…I don’t know,” Sam snorted derisively.  “Man, if only it were that simple.”

“What then?” Dean’s mind started going down the checklist of supernatural symptoms that might explain his brother’s behavior.  Spirit possession?  A curse?  A siren maybe?  “Come on, Sammy.  You’re freaking me out.  Whatever it is, tell me.  We can fix it.”

Sam dropped his head into his hands and fisted them into hair.  “There’s no fixing it.  I tried.  So fucking long I tried.  You don’t even know, Dean.  But it never went away.  Even when I was with Jess.”  Sam’s voice wavered on her name like it hurt him to say it.  “I think deep down I didn’t want it to.”

Dean reached out and put a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder.  “Hey, talk to me.  You’re my brother, Sammy.  Whatever happens, we’re in it together okay?”

Sam looked up, his eyes were shining with unshed tears.  “That’s just it.  It’s you.  It’s always been you.”

Dean pulled away from him cautiously.  “What do you mean, me?”

“Dean, I--I wasn’t confused.  I kissed you because I wanted to.  I’ve been wanting to for a long time.”

No.  No no no no.  This couldn’t be happening.  “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.  I’m sorry if that freaks you out, but I can’t keep lying to myself about it,” Sam sniffled.  “These feelings…its real Dean, and I don’t care - I’m not ashamed of them anymore.  It took me a long time but, I know what I want now.  I want you.”

Dean felt like he was floating outside of his body.  His mind was on a constant loop of shock and panic.  Not again.  He’d promised himself never again.  “Sammy, no.  W-We’re brothers,” he stuttered.

“Come on, Dean.  We’ve never been _just_ brothers.  Nothing about us - about our whole lives, has ever been that cookie-cutter normal.  You can’t tell me you don’t want this too.  I was drunk Dean, but I wasn’t so drunk that I don’t remember.  You kissed me too.”

Dean distantly registered that his hands were shaking where they gripped his knees.  He wanted to smash them into the wall until they broke.  He’d failed his brother.  Ruined him.  Just like Alastair had said.

“Look at me, Dean.  Say something,” Sam pleaded.

Dean met his brother’s watery eyes and felt his heart breaking.  How many times would he have to suffer this before there wasn’t enough of him left to put back together again?  “I’m sorry,” he choked.

“What?” A tear slipped down Sam’s cheek.

“I can’t,” Dean said weakly.  “I can’t hurt you again.”

A second later he was up and out the door, leaving his brother staring numbly after him.


	4. Chapter 4

_When he came to he was whole again, but that fact wasn’t a comfort.  Dean knew that the only reason they kept putting him back together was so that they could take him apart all over again in new creative ways._

_There was no sleep in Hell.  No morning and no night to mark the passing of time.  It was just one endless day of torture.  Wave upon wave of blinding pain that only ebbed when he either passed out or was granted time to heal so that the next round of abuse could be started on fresh skin.  It might have been 3 months, 3 years, or 3 decades.  What passed for reality in the Devil’s realm was far past the reaches of what a human mind could ever hope to conceive of._

_Dean was alone for the moment.  Left naked and shivering, strapped tightly to the stone slab.  But no one’s ever really alone in Hell.  The very air pulsates with a sentient malice; drawing the deepest fears and darkest secrets from a sinner’s subconscious and whispering them into enemy ears._

_The knives glinted dully at him from across the room, waiting patiently on the workbench to be put to use once more.  Whips, clubs, scalpels, drills, and crude devices right out of the worst nightmares of the Dark Ages.  He was intimately acquainted with them all._

_The light in the chamber was dim but he could still make out the wet red membrane of its walls.  They seemed to glow and quiver whenever Alastair was really making him scream.  Like the room itself took pleasure in his pain._

_The solitude was shattered by a chorus of ear-piercing screams.  It was coming from somewhere close by.  He could smell the sulfur in their blood as it spilled from their bodies.  Someone was killing demons._

_“Dean!”_

_No.  Please God, not again._

_“Dean!  Hold on, I’m coming!”_

_It’s not him.  It can’t really be him._

_It’s just another demon wearing Sam’s face.  Coming to beat him bloody and slice him open.  That was the latest tactic in the long line of techniques they’d been employing to get him to break.  First Mom.  Then Dad.  And now Sam.  He’d almost been surprised that it had taken Alastair this long to start using his family against him._

_“Dean!  Oh God.”_

_Dean saw him then framed in the doorway, covered in demon blood.  His face was white with shock.  Not an ounce of the usual disgust and cold fury that usually greeted him._

_“Sammy?”_

_Suddenly strong hands were moving over his body.  Not hurting this time.  Soothing.  Scanning for injuries._

_“Dean.  Dean, you okay?  Please be okay.  I’m sorry.  So fucking sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”_

_Sam hugged his head, pressing his cheek against Dean’s.  Dean could feel Sam’s hair falling against his neck like silk.  He had forgotten what it was like to be touched with affection.  To feel safe.  His body trembled with relief as it relearned the sensation._

_But even in Hell, he was still a hunter._

_“No!”  His bonds restricted most of his movement but he tossed his head away and struggled to shrug Sam off.  “How do I know you’re really him?”_

_Sam stepped back, wounded eyes glassy with tears like Dean had just punched him in the gut.  “It’s me, Dean.  I swear.  I killed about a dozen demons just to get in here.  I came to save you!  Did you really think I wouldn’t try?  That I would, what – move on?  Forget you?”_

_Dean wanted to believe with every fiber of his being.  He really did._

_“You’ve been here before, Sam.  Couple of times now.  Or something that looked like you.  Except you seemed pretty happy to have me here then.  Filleted me open like a fish and kept coming back for more.”_

_Sam looked like he was going to be sick.  “No!  No, that wasn’t me.  You have to believe me, Dean.  I-I don’t have any salt or holy water.  I had Ruby’s blade b-but I lost in the fight trying to get to you.  There’s no way I can prove it to you so you’ll just have to believe me.  Please!”_

_Dean looked into his eyes and he felt hope start to invade his veins like a drug.  “Tell me something.  Something only the real Sam would know.”_

_Sam bit the inside of his cheek, considering.  “I got something, but you might not want to hear it.”_

_Dean made a sound that was too hollow to be a laugh.  “Kind of a captive audience here, Sam.  Lay it on me.”_

_“Remember when I was twelve and I took off on my own for a week back in Flagstaff?”_

_“You mean when you ran away on my watch?  Yeah I remember that.  So?  That supposed to impress me?  Azazel’s had his demon GPS on your ass since you’ve been six months old.  You think something like that wouldn’t be common knowledge down here?”_

_Sam leveled an imploring look at him.  “Dean, please.  Hear me out.”  He ducked his head, visibly nervous.  “I never told you why I left though did I?  I came home from school that day and saw you with Cindy Freidson’s thighs wrapped around your ears.”_

_Dean blanched.  “I don’t-“_

_“I heard her screaming your name,” Sam continued, moving closer.  “I watched you make her come and then I watched her return the favor.”_

_Dean couldn’t breathe.  He was lying there naked but suddenly felt more exposed than ever before._

_Sam leaned over him, running gentle fingers through his short hair.  “I heard you, Dean.  I heard what you said.  You said, ‘Sammy’.  You came with my name on your lips.”_

_“No.  You’re lying.”  Dean heard himself say it as if from very far away.  It sounded like begging._

_“I’m not lying.  You know I’m not.  I heard you.  I know your secret, Dean.  And I ran away because I couldn’t handle it.  I didn’t understand.”_

_Sam bent down, brushing his lips against Dean’s ear.  “But I do now,” he whispered.  “I get it now.”_

_Sam pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth.  His fingertips roved feather-light over Dean’s face and chest.  “Missed you.  Missed you so much.”_

_Dean whimpered and strained up against his shackles, wanting to get away as much as he wanted to pull Sam closer.  “Sammy.”_

_“You love me, don’t you Dean?”_

_“Of course.  You know I do.  But-“_

_Sam’s touch trailed down over the musculature of his stomach and caressed his flanks.  Dean felt his skin flush warm in response.  Aching for the affection he had been denied for so long._

_“You’d do anything for me.  Wouldn’t you?” Sam whispered._

_Dean panted and pulled against his bindings, arching his back up off the stone as his brother’s mouth found his nipple._

_“Sam, please.” He didn’t even know what he was asking for._

_“I know you would.  You’re here because of me aren’t you?  Because you sold for soul for me.  Because you love me that much.”_

_Sam’s tongue flicked out, dipping into Dean’s navel.  His hazel eyes focused intently on his brother’s face._

_Dean shuddered.  Tears welled in his eyes.  Everything he’d ever wanted but had always viciously denied himself was right there, being offered to him for the taking._

_“Tell me that you want me, Dean.  I want to hear you say it.”_

_Fingers brushed over the soft skin of his inner thigh and Dean felt desire curl low in his belly.  People often looked at his womanizing, his drinking, even the way he ate and thought he had no self-control.  What they didn’t know is that every day of his life he spent focusing every bit of his control on quieting this one thing.  The one thing he wanted most and could never have._

_Now under Sammy’s light touch, the iron bars of that control were all falling down._

_“You want me, don’t you?  Want me so bad.  No one knows you like I do.  No one loves you like I do.”_

_Warm wet breath replaced Sam’s fingers.  His brother’s petal soft lips kissing the spot where thigh met hip.  Dean’s body twitched and writhed helplessly in response, burning for more.  He should have been ashamed of the noises he was making, but in that moment he was beyond shame.  Beyond reason._

_“Say it, Dean.  Need to hear you say it.  Yes or no.  Do you want me?”_

_“P-please.”_

_“Say it.”_

_“Yes!”_

_Sam grinned wide like the cat that got the cream._

_“DEAN!  How could you?”_

_Dean’s heart stumbled in its rhythm at the sound of his father’s booming voice._

_Sam sprang up and away from him guiltily, not daring to look their father in the eyes.  “Dad?” he croaked. “What are you doing here?”_

_~~~_

Dean woke with a start. 

Two sets of big brown eyes were staring back at him.  Brown, not black.  He was okay.

“Kids, leave Dean alone!” Yanette warned.  She was in the kitchen slicing tomatoes.  She handled the knife with the ease of a woman who was not to be messed with. 

She and Eduardo’s two youngest children were crouched down in front of the sofa where Dean was sleeping, watching him and giggling mischievously.  Marta, age five, and David, age three.

Dean stifled the urge to shout at them.  They didn’t know that he had a silver switchblade in his pocket and had been seconds from whipping it out.  “Hey guys.  We need to get a couple of bells for you two or something.  It’s not nice to sneak up on people, you know.”

“Sorry Mr. Dean,” Marta said in her little girl singsong voice.  How could anyone stay mad at that?

“Go get dressed!” Yanette called to them.  “People who show up in my kitchen without clean clothes and clean faces get rocks for breakfast.”

“Rocks?” David whispered to his sister incredulously.  He was like a miniature version of Ed, down to the same tiny dimple in his chin.

Marta rolled her eyes at him like only big sisters can.  She grabbed his little hand and led him off to get them both ready for the day.

Dean’s heart was still going a mile a minute.  He could feel his t-shirt sticking to the sheen of sweat that had broken out over his neck and back.  It had been a long time since he’d had that particular nightmare, but he had a good idea why it was making an appearance all of a sudden.  He rubbed his eyes hard to clear the remnants of it from his mind.  He had a full day of work ahead of him that he needed to concentrate on.

When Dean had left home, he’d walked all the way across town, stopping at a liquor store on the way to pick up some hunter’s helper.  At the time, he’d been so shaken that he really hadn’t trusted himself behind the wheel.  Later he decided that in addition to not wanting to go back to the house to get his car - which it would require facing Sam - it was really better to leave it right where it was for practical purposes.  Sam needed a way to get him and Cas around, and with it parked in the driveway they had a ready cache of weapons in case anything supernatural came calling.  That first night Dean had sat up drinking amidst the exposed wires and bare wooden studs of the house that Ed and his crew were building.  By the time the workers showed up the next morning, he was sober or at least close enough to it to work.  The rest of the guys probably just thought that he’d gotten there especially early. 

Ed had tried to bust his balls about why he was wearing the same clothes as the day before.  He joked that Dean had either “really scored or really blew it,” assuming that it had something to do with a chick.  Dean didn’t bother correcting him.  Picking up on Dean’s stony-faced reserve, Ed offered him a place to crash if he needed it until whatever his issue was at home blew over. 

That had been about a week and a half ago.  Since then, Dean had been sleeping on Ed’s couch and riding with him to work every day.  He did his best to repay Ed and Yanette’s kindness by working his ass off at the job, helping out with the kids, and pitching in wherever else he could.  He’d even cooked dinner a few times.  Not that it was all that hard to grill a bunch of cheeseburgers but Yanette had been more than happy to have him around ever since.  Her two oldest kids, Victoria and Gabriella were happy to have him around for other reasons if their shy smiles and sudden preoccupation with their looks was any indication.  Dean tried to give them a wide berth.  Quite frankly he’d rather deal with a pair of wendigos than preteen girls.

At first, Dean’s cell phone had been ringing almost nonstop, message after message from Sam begging him to come home.  Soon the begging turned to cursing.  The last voicemail he’d gotten was almost twenty minutes worth of Sam shouting drunkenly at him before he’d dropped the phone.  It had been three days since then and his phone had been completely silent.  That was somehow harder to take.  It felt like Sam was giving up on him.  Part of him wanted that.   Knew that it was the best thing for Sam in the long run, and was probably what should have happened a long time ago.  But another part of him was still terrified of losing his brother for good.

Dean was up on the roof later that day when he heard Ed call up to him.  “Hey Dean!  Come down for a sec.”  Dean climbed down the ladder and turned the corner of the house, expecting Ed to give him another task to do. 

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Sam standing there next to him.  Sam was slightly hunched in on himself with his hands shoved in his pockets, unconsciously making himself seem smaller.  He did that whenever he was feeling particularly insecure or guilty about something.  Dean could always read Sam like an open book.

“This guy says he knows you,” Ed said, a question evident in his tone.

Dean glanced at the miserable look on his brother’s face.  “Yeah, I know him.  It’s cool.”

Ed looked from one of them to the other, sensing the tension between them.  “Okay.  Well, I’m going to check on the Henderson site.  I’ll come get you on my way home.”

“Thanks, Ed.”

As soon as Ed was gone, Sam straightened and leveled an accusing look at Dean.  “So that’s where you’ve been all this time?  Staying with him?”

“What are you doing here, Sam?”

“I’ve been worried out of my mind about you and that’s all you have to say to me?” Sam shouted.  He looked around quickly, remembering then that they were in public, and dropped his voice to a tightly controlled tone.  “You could have at least called to say that you were okay.”

“I’m okay.  Happy?”  Dean countered.

Sam looked like he wanted to hit something.  Probably Dean.  “No.  But I’d be happier if you got your head out of your ass and came home.”

“Are you going to drop this?”  Dean couldn’t bring himself to put it in any more explicit terms than that.

Sam’s mouth thinned to a hard line.  “Just because you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean it’s going to magically go away, Dean.  It doesn’t work like that.”

“I can’t Sam,” Dean replied.  His words came out ragged at the end.  He had to bite the side of his tongue to ground himself again.  “I just…can’t.  I’m sorry.  I need you to respect that.”

Instead of backing off, Sam was spurred on.  “I don’t believe you.  Tell me why, Dean.  I can tell something more is going on with you.  If you’d just explain-“

“We’re done here,” Dean cut him off.  “I got work to do.”

Dean walked away from his brother.  In his head, he was just making the preemptive move.

~~~

That night, he and Ed sat on the back porch drinking beer and watching Marta and David chase fireflies.  David squealed in delight every time his little fist closed around one and he immediately let it go again.

“So.  You wanna talk about him?” Ed asked apropos of nothing.

“Who?”

“Gigantor.  Or whatever his name is.  The one who came by to see you today.”

Dean picked at the label of his bottle, which was puckering up from the condensation.  He could feel Ed watching him expectantly.  “Sam,” he grumbled.

“Sam, then.  He seemed kinda upset.”

Dean took another sip of his beer rather than comment. 

“Let me guess,” Ed ventured.  “He’s got something to do with why you’re staying with us?”

Dean tensed.  He’d been afraid this conversation would be coming.  “Am I wearing out my welcome?”

“Naw, man.  That’s not what I’m saying.  You know Yanette already likes you better than me.”  Ed gave him a friendly nudge with his elbow.  “She’d kick my ass out before she let you go.  You’re a Guerrero for life now.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to that.  He’d never met people like Ed and his family.  They were so warm and accepting without asking for anything in return.  “Thanks,” he managed.

“So this Sam guy?  You known him long?”

“Yeah,” Dean snorted.  He briefly thought about clearing up exactly how long, but for some reason he felt like saying Sam was just his brother sounded like the bigger lie.

Ed nodded contemplatively.  “He’s important to you?”

Dean slowly tore a strip of paper off of his bottle and watched it flutter to the ground.  “Yeah.”

“You gotta work it out then, man.  Life’s too short, you know?”

“It’s complicated.”

“What isn’t?” Ed chuckled.  “What matters is whether or not he’s worth the effort.  But hey, what do I know?”

With that, Ed set down his beer and loped over towards his kids.  He scooped them both up, one under each arm and spun them around.  Marta scolded him in a near perfect imitation of her mother while David just screamed and laughed.

Dean drank and watched them play.  Once he would have looked at Ed’s life and called it boring.  Now he would have given just about anything to be worthy of that kind of happiness.


	5. Chapter 5

_“Dad?  What are you doing here?”_

_John Winchester strode into the darkened chamber, his face contorted with rage._

_He went right for Sam who was simply paralyzed with shock._

_“I’m not your father anymore!  Never call me that again!  I was told you were here, and this is what I find.  You’re no son of mine, boy.  I should have known you’d end up like this.  A fucking freak!”_

_He backhanded Sam across the face like he was brushing off a bug.  Sam crumpled to the floor._

_“Dad, no!  You don’t understand!” Dean cried._

_“I understand everything.  I heard you just now confessing it.  Moaning like a bitch in heat.  Sam’s a freak, but it’s all your fault Dean.  You’re the one who contaminated him with your filth.  Making him think about you like that when he was just a kid.  He might have been okay.  But no, you had to go strutting yourself around right in front of him.  Twisting him all up inside.”_

_“Leave him alone!” Sam yelled.  He lunged for John but couldn’t even get to his feet before his father’s boot connected with his ribs with a sickening crack of bone.  Sam wailed out in pain, clutching his side.  John grabbed him by the front of his shirt and punched him hard in the face._

_“Dad please!  Don’t hurt him!” Dean begged.  He wanted to jump in front of Sam and take the hits himself but he couldn’t move.  Sammy was getting beat on because of him.  Because of what he’d done to him, and he couldn’t do anything about it._

_“Are you happy now, Dean?  Look what you’ve done to your brother.  You’ve made him into a fucking slut for you.  A pathetic, sick little whore.”  John kept punching Sam, making horrible wet noises where his fist pounded into flesh slick with blood.  Sam moaned and tried to lift his arms to defend himself, but each hit brought him closer and closer to unconsciousness._

_“No!  Stop it!  Please!”  Tears streamed down Dean’s face.  He didn’t want to believe it, but that little voice down deep inside him – the one that loved to remind him how he wasn’t smart enough, fast enough, or strong enough – agreed with Dad and it was always right._

_“He’s never gonna leave this place now.  The sin of incest is on his soul forever.  You did that to him, Dean.  He’s going to be Hell’s little bitchboy for the rest of time.  They love his kind down here.  You know what?  I think everyone needs to know just what he is now.”_

_John punched Sam one last time, hard enough to make his head thwack against the stone floor.  Sam fell back limply.  John ripped his son’s shirt down the middle, exposing his chest.  Then he grabbed a knife from the workbench._

_“Dad no!  What are you doing?  He’s your son!”  Panic gripped Dean like a vise.  He’d never felt so helpless in his life._

_John ignored him, reaching for a bottle of lye and pouring it out over the steel blade._

_Then Dean knew.  He’d seen that little trick before._

_“You’re not my father!” he roared._

_John just laughed.  A second later, his face dissolved away like ripples on a pond and it was Alastair’s laugh and Alastair’s marble white eyes shining back at him._

_“Took you long enough, Deano.  I was starting to think you’d never recognize me.  After all the quality time we’ve spent together. Tsk tsk.  That kinda thing hurts a guy’s feelings.”_

_“DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM!” Dean screamed.  He could feel the bindings cutting into his wrists and ankles and he struggled against them._

_Alastair ignored him.  “Don’t worry, Samuel.  I’ll make it quick.”  He leaned down to pat Sam’s hair like he was a strange dog.  “Now hold still.”_

_As soon as the lye-dipped blade seared into Sam’s skin he screamed himself awake.  His eyes rolled in terror and pain but Alastair kept him pinned to the spot with an unseen force like an insect specimen under glass._

_Dean could smell the fetid chemical burn of his brother’s flesh as Alastair carved the word WHORE across his chest._

_“SAMMY!” Dean yelled.  Chanting it through broken sobs as if the name held some magic of its own and the repetition of it could conjure some measure of protection.  Of course, there’s no protection from Alastair’s blade.  He knows that all too well._

_Dean cried and listened to his brother screaming.  He felt the pain in his screams like it was happening to him.  He wished it were.  It was what he deserved._

_Alastair took a step back to admire his work.  “What do you think Deano?  Did I spell it right?”_

_“Please,” Dean begged him.  He’s got no time for pride when Sam is writhing on the floor bleeding in agony.  “Please don’t hurt him anymore.  Let him go.  Please let him go.”_

_“Aw, you beg so pretty sweetheart.  How come you never beg like that for me?”_

_Dean swallowed back another sob.  “P-Please.  Let him go.”_

_“Why should I, huh?  What will you give me?”_

_“Anything!  Anything you want.”_

_Alastair’s smile curved like a scythe.  “You know what I want.”_

_Dean knew.  Every day the same carrot was dangled in front of his face.  The pain could end if he’d just accept it.  He would have to take his place at Alastair’s side and forgo any hope of preserving his own humanity.  He’ll torture and slaughter for the rest of eternity.  A butcher of souls.  It wouldn’t be long before his eyes would be as inky black as any demon he’d ever hated.  Dean had always refused, choosing to let his body be broken rather than his soul.  But now even that didn’t matter.  Nothing mattered but saving Sammy._

_“Yes.”_

_Dean felt something precious inside him crack._

_Alastair cocked his head like a crow that’s spotted something shiny.  “Say that again?  I didn’t quite catch it.”_

_“Yes, goddamnit!  Let him go and I’m yours.”_

_The bindings disintegrated off of Dean’s limbs.  Alastair threw his head back and laughed.  “Finally!  Now doesn’t that feel better?  All that time and suffering you could have saved yourself if you’d just come to your senses sooner.  But then again you’re a Winchester.  Stubborn is hardwired into your DNA.”_

_Dean ignored him, all thoughts focused on Sam.  He lurched upward, muscles stiffened to concrete from being so long splayed out on the rack.  He fell hard to the ground, barely able to stand, so he crawled to his brother who was hiccupping for air.  “Sammy?  Sammy, I’m here.  You’re going to be okay.”_

_Sam moaned but didn’t move.  Dean tried to pull him close to comfort him but he wouldn’t budge an inch.  Alastair’s hold on him was still strong._

_Dean curled protectively around Sam, trying to shield him with his body.  “You have your deal, Alastair.  Now let him go.”_

_“Oh we’re not done just yet.  There’s a small proviso that needs to be handled first.”_

_“What?  What the fuck are you talking about?”_

_“You need to prove your loyalty to me Dean.  I require a tribute.”  Alastair’s dead eyes shifted to Sam. “The thing you hold most precious to you.  Your Sammy.  He’ll be your sacrifice to me.  You’re the one who set this ball rolling Dean.  If you’re going to work for me, you need to learn to finish what you start.”_

_“No!  You said you’d let him go.”_

_“And I will.  But first you’re going to break him in like a good little whore while I watch.  He screams so nice.  I like it.  You’re going to fuck him until he screams.  Then I’ll let him go.  Back topside where he belongs, good as new.  He won’t remember a thing.  But you and I will.  Consider it a bonding experience for our new partnership.  Team building, if you will.”_

_Dean’s mind rebelled and recoiled at the very idea of it.  He couldn’t hurt Sammy like that.  He’d rather destroy himself._

_“You’re out of your mind.  I’m not going to v-violate my own brother just so you can get your rocks off.”_

_“Oh, but you were all set to use him to get your own ‘rocks’ off now weren’t you?  You were practically gagging for it.”_

_“T-That’s…T-That’s not true.  It wasn’t like that.  I’d never force him.  I’d never hurt him.”_

_“Never say never, Dean.  I think you will.  You will if you want him to live that is.  Either you do what I say or it’s back on the rack for you, and precious little Sammy stays here forever.  I’ll scrape the bottom of Hell’s barrel and hand him over to the lowest of the low.  And let me tell you sweetheart, those boys aren’t exactly gentle with their toys.  When they’re through with him – in a millennia or so – whatever’s left won’t be much of anything anymore.  Not even fit for a hellhound snack.”_

_Dean clutched Sam’s hand, rubbing the skin of his palm with one thumb like a worry-stone.  He couldn’t.  He couldn’t do this to Sam.  He’d never forgive himself.  But if he didn’t do what Alastair wanted, it could be so much worse.  He didn’t doubt Alastair on that fact for a moment.  Sam would never get out.  He’d suffer forever because his big brother hadn’t been strong enough to keep his filthy desires to himself.  Dean would do anything if it meant saving his brother’s life, no matter what it would cost him.  “He won’t remember anything?”_

_“No.  I’ll wipe his mind clean and he’ll be as good as new.  I swear it by the Morningstar,” Alastair vowed.  “Now, Dean.  Do we have a deal?”_

_Dean looked at his brother, writhing in pain and he knew he didn’t have a choice.  “Yes,” he whispered._

_He could almost hear that fragile cracked thing inside his chest shatter into a million pieces._

_“Well then, come give Daddy a kiss.”_

 

~~~

Dean barely made it to the bathroom before the contents of his stomach forced their way back up.  The cold tiles under his knees along with the cooling layer of sweat that coated his body made him shiver uncontrollably.  Sam’s screams were still ringing in his ears.

“Mr. Dean?”

The bathroom door cracked open and Marta peeked her head out from behind it.  “Are you okay Mr. Dean?”

Dean let himself fall backward onto his butt and leaned against the side of the bathtub.  “Yeah sweetie, I’m okay,” he huffed out.  “Go back to bed.”

Marta frowned at him.  She disappeared from the door but a second later she was back again, pushing her way into the bathroom with a washcloth in hand.  She wet it under the sink and then tentatively pressed it to Dean’s forehead.  “Mommy always does this when I get sick.  It makes you feel better.”

Dean swallowed hard and gathered her into his lap for a hug.  “Thank you,” he gulped. 

He didn’t believe in God.  Not after everything he’d seen.  But if that little girl had asked him to right then, he would have tried.  He would have tried with every last bit of his broken heart.

 

~~~

A few days later, Sam was making some grilled cheese sandwiches for him and Cas when his phone finally rang.  He knocked two kitchen chairs over in his scramble to grab it.

“Dean?”

“No,” an unfamiliar voice answered.  “It’s Ed Guerrero.  We met the other day when you came by to see Dean.”

“Oh,” Sam was instantly alarmed.  Why was his boss calling him from Dean’s cell?  “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this.  Dean was attacked by someone down at the marina.  I have no idea what the hell he was doing down there in the middle of the night.  The security guard found him but the other guy was already gone.  Thank God my cousin Marcos is an EMT and he recognized Dean when they brought him in.” 

“Is he-?”  Sam couldn’t bring himself to say the words. 

“No yeah, Dean’s okay.  He’s stable but he’s pretty messed up.  I’m at the hospital with him now.  I found your name in his cell.  Didn’t really know who else to call.”

“I’m on my way!”

Sam hung up and turned to Cas who was watching him with concern in his eyes.  “Dean’s in the hospital.  Something happened.”

“Go, Sam.  I’ll be fine,” Cas promised.

“Okay…Okay.” Sam’s mind was a blur.  Dean was hurt.  Nothing was ok when Dean was hurt.  “Lock the door after I leave and double check the salt lines.”

“I know Sam.  Go!  He needs you more than I do right now.”

Sam nodded numbly at him and ran for the door.  He floored it all the way to the hospital, imagining how pissed Dean would be to see him driving so fast in his baby.  Right then he couldn’t have cared less.

 

~~~

Sam got to the hospital and made a beeline for the front desk.  _“_ Hello?  I’m here for Dean Wi- Dean Smith.  He’s a patient here.”

The nurse looked up at him from behind thick-rimmed glasses.  “I’m sorry sir, and you are?”

“It’s okay ma’am.  He’s the one I told you about.”

Sam turned to see Ed standing behind him, twisting the brim of his baseball cap anxiously in his hands.

“Oh!” the nurse exclaimed.  “You’re _Sam_?”

“Uh, yes.”

The nurse shuffled out from behind the desk and patted Sam’s arm comfortingly.  “I’m Violet.  Mr. Smith’s been asking for you.  Come with me, dear.  I’ll take you to him.”

“Right.”  Sam looked back to Ed.  “Ed, I-“

“Don’t worry.  He’s going to be ok.  I gotta get home.  My wife and kids are going to kill me if I don’t check in with them soon and let them know how Dean is.”

It hit Sam then how lucky Dean was to have found a friend like Ed.  “Thank you.  Thank you for everything you and your family have done.  Trust me, it means a lot to him.”

Ed cleared his throat awkwardly and shrugged.  “He means a lot to us.  Take care of him.” 

Sam gave him a short wave goodbye and then hurried off down the hall after the nurse, her thick-soled orthopedic shoes squeaking as she walked.

As soon as he got to the doorway of Dean’s room and caught sight of his brother’s face the horrible pressure he’d felt in his chest since Ed had called him intensified, threatening to crush him.  Dean looked so helpless.  That wasn’t right.  Dean was the strongest person he knew. 

His neck was bandaged in thick gauze on one side and his wrist was set in a hard cast.  Bruises were already blooming angry red and purple under one eye and along his jawline.  His freckles stood out starkly against his sickly pale skin. 

Sam didn’t realize that he was frozen in place until Violet nudged him gently.  “You can go in you know,” she told him.  “He’s on a lot of painkillers so he might be a little out of it.  He lost a lot of blood.”

Sam pulled a chair up to Dean’s bedside and took his hand.  His knuckles were red and nicked up with little cuts.  He’d seen them that way a million times before.  His brother never could back down from a fight.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Violet told him.  “I’ll be back in a bit with Dr. Rosenthal.  He’ll want to talk to you.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Sam mumbled, his eyes never leaving Dean’s face.

When she’d gone, Sam leaned forward to rest his head against Dean’s hip.  He felt the warmth of his body through the thin hospital sheets and his eyes started to burn with tears.  “What the hell did you _do_ Dean?”

Dean’s hand jerked weakly in his, startling Sam.  “Sammy?”  His voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Dean!  Oh thank God!”  He buried his face into Dean’s side.  He hadn’t been there.  Dean had been hurt and alone, and he hadn’t been there.  If it wasn’t for some random rent-a-cop patrolling the harbor his brother might have bled out right there on the docks.

Suddenly he felt Dean’s hand petting his hair, comforting him.  Soothing _him_.  “Shhh -- Shhh.  S’okay Sammy.  You’re okay.”

Sam picked his head up, staring at Dean incredulously.  “I’m fine Dean.  You’re the one who almost died.”

Dean shook his head groggily.  “Doesn’t matter.”

“What?”

“Gotta keep Sammy safe,” Dean insisted, eyes dark and unfocused.  “S’my job.  Dad said ‘ _take care of Sammy_ ’.  That’s all that matters.”

Tears trailed in hot rivers down Sam’s cheeks.  His heart throbbed in his throat.  “You matter Dean!  You matter to me.”

Dean nodded at him, placating him automatically but not really listening.  The painkillers must have been stellar because seconds later Dean passed out, face going slack against his pillow.

Sam held his hand for a long time, watching him sleep.  He’d never seen Dean like this and it scared the shit of out him.  His big brother - the unstoppable force of nature- was falling apart right before his eyes.  Sam knew that whatever was at the root of it all had gotten triggered the night they’d kissed.  Somehow this all came back to that and to the terror he’d seen in Dean’s eyes before he’d run out of the house. 

He was going to find out what going on and he was going to fix it.  Dean had never failed him.  He wasn’t about to fail Dean on this.

 

~~~

Dean woke up in a hospital bed with machines beeping all around him.  This shit was really getting old.

He looked around and saw Sam, sitting grim-faced in the chair beside him.

“Déjà vu, huh?”

Sam smiled wanly.  “Yeah.  I’d really appreciate it if you could go a whole month without ending up in the hospital.  I’m getting real sick of lime green Jello.”

Dean tried to laugh and winced when he felt the stitches in his neck pull tight.  “Sorry, dude.  I’ll aim for a more upscale establishment next time.  Someplace with better snack options.”

Sam dropped his eyes to the bed, any trace of amusement gone.  “You gonna tell me what the hell you were doing at the marina in the middle of the night that almost got you killed?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably.  He knew he’d screwed up big time.  “Gaby said-“

“Who’s Gaby?” Sam asked.

“Gabriella; one of Ed’s daughters.  She said her friend’s older sister went missing the other night.  She worked at the bait shop down at Safe Harbor Marina.  I went to go check it out.”

“You went out on a case alone?” Sam looked furious.

“It wasn’t like a _case_ case,” Dean countered petulantly.  “I couldn’t sleep so I just figured I’d have a look around.”

“And you couldn’t wait?   You couldn’t take the time to call me for backup?”

Dean didn’t know how to answer that so he just stayed quiet.  He couldn’t explain to Sam how he’d been crawling out of his skin every night, staying awake as long as he possibly could to keep the memories from invading his dreams.  He couldn’t explain why he hated himself so much that he felt like he had to hunt down trouble just to have something else to hate more, even if just for a little while.

Finally Sam sighed, breaking the silence.  “So what was it?”

“Leviathan.  One of them must have escaped Crowley’s goons.  It was wearing this poor girl’s body like a disguise.  I didn’t even know what was up until it unhinged its jaw and nearly bit my head off.”

“You took on a Leviathan by yourself?” Sam was shocked.  “You’re lucky to be alive!  How’d you kill it?”

“Dumb luck.  I didn’t have a knife on me big enough to behead it, not that I didn’t try anyway.  Course that just made it mad.  It had me cornered on some rich guy’s boat.  I thought it was all over until I found a bottle of Borax in the galley; poured the whole damn thing down its gullet.  Then I hacked its head off with one of the cook’s knives and rolled it into the sea.”  Dean was smiling by the end of his story, remembering how the creature had thrashed and screeched as the chemical cleaner burned its way through its thick black blood.  Serves it right for killing an innocent teenage girl.

“Dean, you almost died!” Sam scolded him.  “You realize that right?  That thing’s teeth were about an inch away from your artery.  You almost bled to death!  If that guard hadn’t found you when he did-“

“I know,” Dean said flatly.  “I know.  But what was I supposed to do?  Let it run around Daytona eating people?”

“You were supposed to call me!  We’re a team, remember?  At least we used to be.  I don’t know what’s going on with you Dean, but it’s got to stop.  We can’t go on like this.”  Sam inched forward in his chair and grabbed Dean’s hand, cradling it in his gigantic paws like it was something precious.  “Please.  Come home.”

Dean wanted to protest, but one look into his brother’s watery hazel eyes and just didn’t have the strength to fight him anymore. 

“Okay Sammy.”

~~~

By the time Sam got Dean out of the bureaucratic entanglement of the hospital paperwork and back to their house both of them were exhausted.  Dean didn’t even put up a fuss when Sam helped him out of the car.

As soon as they were inside, Cas came bounding out of his room.  “Dean!  I’m glad you’re home.”

Dean let Cas hug him.  “Thanks Cas.  Sam’s been taking good care of you?”

“Very good care, Dean.  Sam is surprisingly maternal for someone who grew up without a mother figure.”

“I am not!  Jesus, Cas!” Sam exclaimed.  “Remind me to teach you about tact one of these days.”

“I suspect that’s your influence on him Dean more than John’s.” Cas continued.

Dean just laughed half-heartedly.  “Thanks.  I think.  Missed having you around man.”

“I missed you too Dean.  Please promise me that you won’t go away again.  It’s extremely upsetting for Sam.  I don’t like to see him sad.”

Sam blushed and shoved his hands in his pockets.  He hadn’t realized how perceptive Cas was, even without his grace.

Dean blanched at bit.  “I promise.”

Cas took Dean’s injured wrist in his hands gingerly.  He studied the fiberglass cast as if he found it mildly offensive.  “I’m sorry I can’t heal you Dean.”

“It’s okay really.  It takes a little longer doing it the old-fashioned way but I’ll heal up just fine.”

“Okay,” Cas smiled.  “I’m going to go to bed.  Alissa wants to take me to her yoga class tomorrow morning.”

“Yoga?” Dean snorted.  “Are you serious?”

“Yes.  Yoga is very good for one’s mental and physical well-being.  You should try it sometime.”

Sam burst out laughing as Cas headed off for his bedroom.  Dean in a yoga studio.  He’d fit in there about as well as a bull in a china shop.

“Shut-up,” Dean mumbled, but there wasn’t any heat in it.  He toed off his shoes and wandered down the hall towards their bedroom.

Sam trailed after him, conscious of the way Dean’s normally bow-legged gait became even more exaggerated when he was especially tired like this.  When Sam was younger, he had been jealous of Dean’s casual swagger.  He thought it made him look like a gun-slinging cowboy right out of an old western movie.  Even Dean’s bones conspired to make him into some kind of epic hero, like he didn’t have any choice in the matter.

Dean sat down heavily on the bed.  He lifted his shirt up and extracted one arm but got stuck when it came to his cast. 

“Hold on,” Sam ordered.  He carefully helped his brother maneuver his cast out of his t-shirt sleeve and pulled the whole thing over his head.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Sam glanced down at the bruises that dotted Dean’s torso.  “You alright?  Any pain?”

“I’ll survive,” Dean shrugged.  “Had a lot worse before.”

Sam bit his lip, feeling his chest constricting.  “I should have been there.”

Dean looked up at him.  “It’s not your fault Sam.  You couldn’t have known.  It was stupid of me.”

“Shut-up!  Just shut-up.”  Sam’s voice broke, a sob threatening to escape.  He pushed Dean back on the bed and laid out next to him, arms wrapping him up in a tight hug.

“Uh, Sam?”  Dean asked, his body held unnaturally stiff in resistance.

“I almost lost you,” Sam mumbled into Dean’s shoulder.  “D-don’t ever do that to me again.  You can’t…” Sam struggled to hold himself together.  “You can’t leave me Dean.  Please.”

Dean’s injured hand moved to up to rest at the back of Sam’s head.  “I won’t.  Never again.” 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The "clean version" of this chapter with a less graphic portrayal of non-con can be found at this address: http://righteousbros.livejournal.com/9862.html

_“Sammy, I’m sorry.  I don’t want to do this to you.  You know I’d never want to hurt you if I had any other choice.  But it’s the only way he’s going to let you go.  It’ll be over soon and then you won’t even remember.  It will be like it never happened.”_

_“No.  Please, Dean.  Don’t do it.”_

_“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I have to Sam.  To save your life, to get you out of here.  Please, just don’t fight it.  It will go easier if you don’t fight it.”_

_Dean wriggled his brother’s jeans and his underwear down past his knees.  His cheeks burned with shame when he saw Sam’s flaccid cock resting against his thigh.  He’d imagined touching Sam so many times in his head but he’d never ever wanted this._

_Sam’s limbs were limp like a puppet with its strings cut but he could still feel everything; Alastair’s handiwork.  He was shivering against the cold stone floor and his chest was bleeding from the deep cuts carved into this skin._

_Dean rolled Sam onto his side and folded his knees up, rubbing his back to soothe him as best he could.  “You’ve got to relax Sam.  I don’t want to hurt you.  I don’t…I don’t have anything to ease the way.”_

_Sam just whimpered pitifully, tears rolling down his face._

_Dean spat into his hand and stroked his cock, trying to get it hard enough for what he had to do.  His body refused to respond.  He stroked harder, desperate to get it all over and done with.  If he couldn’t hold up his end of the bargain, Sam would be trapped with Alastair forever.  His cock stayed stubbornly soft in his hand.  No part of him wanted this and there was just no convincing his body otherwise._

_Humiliation and frustration brought fresh tears to his eyes.  He was so fucking pathetic.  “I can’t!” he cried.  “I can’t!”_

_A snap of Alastair’s fingers and Dean was diamond hard, the unnatural aching pain of it socking him in the gut._

_“I figured you’d need a little help,” Alastair leered at him.  “Now get on with it.  Make Baby Brother scream for me Dean.”_

_Dean took a few deep breaths to steady himself.  He had to do this.  He had to.  Sam’s life depended on it.  He spat into his hand again, slicking himself up as much as he could.  “I’m sorry Sammy.”_

_He pressed into Sam as slowly and gently as he could, but Sam’s body was locked up tight in fear.  Sam cried out in shock and pain as Dean slid into him.  “No please!  Dean stop!  You’re hurting me!  Stop it!  Please!”_

_“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry,” Dean pleaded.  He thrust forward, feeling Sam’s muscles clutching him like a steel trap.  The friction was much too rough without lube or even nearly enough spit to make it bearable.  If it was uncomfortable for him he couldn’t imagine how it must feel to Sam.  “Sam, please.  You have to relax.  I don’t want to hurt you.”_

_“Fuck you!” Sam sobbed.  “I hate you!  I hate you for this Dean!  I’ll never forgive you!”_

_Dean heard Alastair laughing from somewhere behind him.  It made the bile rise in this throat.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  There’s no other way.”  He had to get them through this.  If he could get them through this, Sam would be free.  Nothing else mattered._

_Holding on to that thought like a lifeline, Dean squeezed his eyes shut and pumped his hips mechanically.  Sam cried harder and begged him to stop.  “No!  Please Dean!  It hurts!  It hurts so bad!  Stop!”_

_Dean grit his teeth and kept going.  He tried to tuck himself away in one corner of his mind, the same place he went through the worst of Alastair’s tortures.  He could hide inside his head, separate from the horrors visited upon his body.  But Sam’s voice reached him even there, ripping him apart from the inside out._

_“I hate you!” he shouted.  “H-how could you Dean?  AH!  How could you do this to me?  You said you l-loved me!”_

_“I do.  I do, Sammy.” Dean wept, tears dripping down his face.  “Love you so much.  I’m sorry.  You can hate me.  It’s okay.  I hate me too.”_

_He kept moving, apologizing and begging Sam for forgiveness with every thrust.  Eventually Sam fell silent, shutting himself down inside where Dean couldn’t reach him._

_“I’m losing my patience with you Dean.” Alastair warned.  “Make him scream or I will.”_

_“Sam, you have to scream!” Dean sobbed.  “Please, he just wants to hear you scream.  Give him what he wants and this will all be over.  He’ll let you go.  Please!”_

_Sam refused to look at him and pursed his lips tight, spitefully silent._

_“Please, Sam!  Hate me all you want but you have to scream!”  Dean thrust harder, trying to force a scream out of his brother the only way he could._

_Sam tensed, his face red and damp with tears, but he refused to open his mouth._

_“Come on Dean.  I’m disappointed in you,” Alastair taunted.  “If you can’t hold up your end of the bargain, I’ll have to void our contract.  You don’t want that do you?”_

_“No!”_

_Alastair bent down and ran his fingers through Sam’s hair.  “Little Sammy here will be all mine.  My pretty little whore.”_

_“NO!” Dean roared.  He snapped his hips forward viciously._

_An agonizing scream punched out of Sam in response._

_Alastair grinned triumphantly.  “That’s my boy!”_

~~~

Dean thrashed wildly, trying to strike out at some unseen threat.  His arms and legs felt numb, far too clumsy to cooperate.  He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak.  His heart was exploding out of his chest.  He was sure he was dying.  Part of him was glad.

“Dean!  Dean!  You’re having a panic attack!  You have to calm down!”

Sam’s voice sounded like he was shouting at him from the other side of a long tunnel, muffled and faint.  Dean lurched up, trying to find him.  His vision was blurry and the room was dark.  He couldn’t make his mouth work right to call for his brother.  That spiked his panic up even further.

“I’m here Dean!  I’m right here.  I got you.  You’re okay.”  Strong hands griped Dean’s arms and held him tight.  He struggled for a moment until he realized that it was Sam.

“Breath,” Sam soothed.  “You’re got to breath.  Nice and slow.  Panic’s got you hyperventilating yourself.  You’ve got to calm down for me.”

Dean focused on Sam’s voice and gradually willed his lungs to stop seizing.  Slowly he got some feeling back into his limbs and the pressure in his chest subsided enough that he tried to speak.  “S-sammy?”

“You’re okay Dean.  You’re safe.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said.  “You were fine.  Then all of a sudden you started flailing in your sleep like you were having the mother of all nightmares.  You woke up screaming.”

Dean tried to sit up.  He was covered in sweat and his stomach was rolling.  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Sam helped him to the bathroom and rubbed his back as he dry heaved over the toilet.  When it finally stopped, Dean curled up on the tiled floor.  His head was pounding.

“Tell me what I can do.  How can I help you?”

Dean blinked up at him.  “Washcloth.  Marta brings me a wet washcloth.”

“Okay.  Hold on.”

Dean closed his eyes and breathed slowly in and out.  Distantly he heard Sam fumbling through their tiny linen closet.  He was whispering to someone.  They must have woken up Cas.

Dean heard the tap running and then felt the cool washcloth against his forehead.  He sighed in relief as the sharpest edges of his headache began to dull and fade away.  “Thanks.”

“Dean, who’s Marta?”

“Huh?  Oh.  Marta is Ed’s daughter.  The littlest one, except for David.  He’s even littler.” Dean rambled.  His heart had finally stopped racing, but he was still punch-drunk on adrenaline.  “She’s a great kid, real smart for her age.  Gonna be a heartbreaker someday.  You’d like her.  She calls me Mr. Dean like I’m somebody important.  Kinda funny, huh?”

“How often does this happen to you?” Sam pressed.

“Couple of times,” Dean admitted.  “Never this bad.  I would’ve never let her see me this bad.  Wouldn’t want to scare her like that.”

“Well you sure scared the fuck out of me,” Sam said.  “Come on.  Let’s get you back to bed.”

Dean let Sam hoist him up and maneuver him back to their bedroom.  Sam stripped the sheets off the bed since Dean had sweat right through them.  He spread the comforter out over the bare mattress and made Dean lie down to rest.  Sam crawled in next to him, their bodies curled towards each other instinctively like a set of parentheses. 

“Dean, talk to me,” Sam pleaded.  “I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

The pillow was nice and cool against Dean’s cheek and their bed was cloyingly soft.  He wanted to just sleep so badly but he was afraid to.  “Nightmares.  Just nightmares.”

“Nightmares about what?”

Dean felt his eyelids drooping.  “Can’t let me sleep, Sam.  It happens all over again when I sleep.”

“What happens?”  Sam demanded.  “Tell me what happens.”

Blackness faded in and out around the edges of Dean’s vision.  He was going to pass out soon if he wasn’t careful.  “Alastair, making me do things, unforgivable things.  Make it stop, Sam.  I don’t want to remember anymore.”

“What did you do Dean?  What did he make you do?”

Dean tried hard to focus on Sam’s face.  Sam needed to know.  He needed to know so he’d leave and he’d be safe from Dean for once and for all.  “He made me hurt you, Sammy.  He said you wouldn’t remember and you don’t.  But you should.  You should know what kind of person I am.” 

Sam leaned up on one elbow.  “Dean I know you.  Better than anyone.  You’re a good man.”

“Good men don’t rape their brothers.”

~~~

Sam paced the kitchen floor like a caged lion. 

Dean was finally asleep, passed out cold after his exhaustion finally just took over.

Sam couldn’t believe what his brother had told him.  He doubted Dean would ever have told him anything if he had been in his right mind at the time.  Honesty through painkillers and delirium; it was practically a Winchester tradition by now. 

Dean actually thought he’d _raped_ him while he was in Hell.  He’d been carrying that on his shoulders for years, believing it had all really happened. 

Sam wanted to punch something.  Kill something.  He wanted to figure out a way to bring Alastair back from the dead just so he could kill him again.  Slowly this time, so Dean could watch his tormentor suffer as he’d made Dean suffer for all those decades in Hell.

But it was much too late for all of that now.  The damage to his brother had already been done.  Now it was up to Sam to somehow make him understand that it was all a lie.  He didn’t deserve what had been done to him and none of it was his fault.  He had to make Dean see that somehow.

Sam let him sleep as long as he possibly could.  He checked on him often, making sure that Dean wasn’t going to panic again.  Or at least if he did then Sam would be nearby.  He was sleeping so deeply that he doubted Dean was even dreaming at all.  Sam kept himself busying searching the internet using keywords like _sexual assault_ , _traumatic dream diffusion,_ and _PTSD_.  He was willing to try just about anything.

The day gradually wasted away into the late afternoon.  Finally, Sam brought Dean up some dry toast and ginger ale.  He was going to need something to settle his stomach when he woke up.

Sunlight shone palely through the gauzy bedroom curtains.  It highlighted the gaunt angles of Dean’s face, exposing a rainbow spattering of bruises and carving dark shadows in the hollows under his eyes.  He looked older than he had any right to be and much too thin.

“Dean?” Sam coaxed.  He set down the plate of toast and the glass on the nightstand and leaned down over his brother.  “Dean?  You need to wake up now man.  You need to eat something.”

Dean stirred slowly, blinking awake.  “Sam?” he rasped. 

“Right here.  Come on, sit up.”

Dean did as he was told, accepting the ginger ale and sipping it in small mouthfuls.  “How long was I out?”

“About 16 hours.  How do you feel?”

Dean grimaced.  “Like I got hit by a truck.”

Sam sat down on the bed and handed him his toast, glancing at Dean’s hair which was sticking up every which way in dark blonde spikes.  “You kinda look like it.”

Dean chewed thoughtfully, becoming solemn as the silence between them grew heavy.  “So you know,” he said at length.  His eyes darted around restlessly without landing on anything in particular but never in Sam’s direction.  Sam could almost feel the anxiety coming off of his brother in thick waves.

“No,” Sam corrected him.  “I know what you _think_ happened.  But that’s not what _did_ happen.”

“Yeah?” Dean snapped.  “And how do you know that?”

“Cause I never found you, Dean!  I tried everything to get you out of Hell but I never could find a way.  You know that!  I wish to God I had.  I’m telling you it wasn’t me.”

“You weren’t supposed to remember!” Dean insisted.  “That was part of the deal.”

Sam ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.  Dean only wanted to believe the worst about himself.  Why couldn’t he see the truth that was right in front of him?

“Okay,” Sam said, changing tactic.  “Let’s say you’re right.”

Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “What?”

“I’m not saying it’s true, because it isn’t.  But for argument’s sake, let’s say it was me and I don’t remember because of whatever mind-whammy Alastair put on me.”

Dean shifted on the bed nervously.  “Where are you going with this Sam?”

Sam leaned forward, forcing Dean to look him in the eye.  “You didn’t have a choice, right?  You thought you were saving my life, that it was the only way to get me out.”

Dean nodded numbly, his chest heaving with measured breaths.  He looked like he was getting ready to jump up and run out of the room at any moment.

“Okay then,” Sam nodded.  “I forgive you.”

Dean jerked back from him like he’d just been slapped.  “What?”

“I forgive you, Dean.  I still say it wasn’t me but I believe if it had been, or if you thought it was, you’d do anything to keep me safe.  Anything.”

Dean was trembling but he didn’t say a word.

Sam placed his hand in Dean’s palm side up so that Dean could see the jagged scar across the center of his hand.  “Remember this?  Not too long ago I had my own problems figuring out what was real and what wasn’t.  You told me I had to believe in you.  Make it stone-fucking-one and build on that.  Well I did.  I still do every day.  I believe in you, Dean.”

A tear rolled down Dean’s cheek.  “Sammy.”

Sam sniffled, holding back tears of his own.  “Now I need you to believe me when I say that I love you and I forgive you.  That’s never going to change.  _Never_.  Can you do that for me?”

Dean ran one fingertip over Sam’s scar, tracing it lightly.  “Okay.”

“Okay.”  Sam leaned forward and hugged Dean, holding on to him until he felt the tension leave his brother’s body.  It felt like the air between them was finally cleared for the first time in weeks and they both could breathe again.  He kissed Dean’s temple, making sure to keep it safely affectionate and not press Dean any farther than he was ready to go.  Maybe he’d never get what he really wanted but Sam would take whatever he could get and be happy with it.  He could do that for Dean.

When he pulled away, he scrunched up his nose and made a face, aiming for levity.  “Dude you are rank.  You need a shower.”

Thankfully, Dean took the olive branch for what it was and went with it.  He gave Sam a crooked smirk.  “You’re not exactly a bed of roses yourself, Samantha.” 

Sam got up and pulled one of his own t-shirts out of the dresser.  “Just for that I’m only going to let you wear my second favorite t-shirt.  You’re going to need something to wear that will fit easier over that cast.”

Dean managed to shower with the help of a trash bag around his arm to keep his cast dry while Sam remade their bed with fresh sheets.  When they were both clean and dressed they sat out on the porch with a couple of beers, just enjoying the afternoon breeze and each other’s company. 

“Feels weird not being at work,” Dean commented.  “I don’t like leaving Ed short-handed.”

“Not like you could do much with a busted wrist,” Sam pointed out.  “I don’t know a lot about construction but I’m pretty sure being able to use both hands is an essential requirement.”

“Funny.  Where’s Cas?”

“Well around now he’s usually riding his bike over to Alissa’s,” Sam informed him.  “They meet up for coffee after her afternoon kindergarten class gets out.”

“Cas can ride a bike?” Dean asked incredulously.

“Yeah I taught him.  There was an old ten-speed in the shed.”

“We have a shed?”

Sam rolled his eyes.  “You might know these things if you hung around a while.”

Dean’s face fell, growing serious again.  “Yeah about that.  I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have took off like that.”

Sam sipped his beer contemplatively.  “Guess it caught me off guard.  I’m usually the one who’s doing the running.  I got a taste of how it feels from the other side of things this time around.  It really sucks.  How about we both promise not to run anymore just call the whole thing even?”

The corner’s of Dean’s lips quirked up slightly.  “Sounds good to me.”

Suddenly a car horn honked, drawing their attention to the street.

A curvy olive-skinned woman and two little kids climbed out of a little red sedan.  She waved towards their porch, a covered casserole dish in one hand.  “We came to see the patient!” she called cheerily.

A smile broke out over Dean’s face so bright that Sam swore it could have rivaled the sun.  The transformation in him was downright startling.  He jumped up happily and held open the porch’s screen door for them.  “Hey guys!  What’d you bring me?”

bvThe kids giggled and ran right to him, hugging his legs.

The woman kissed both of Dean’s cheeks as she walked in.  “Ay, look at you!  You’re much too skinny” she scolded him, and handed him the dish.  “That’s chicken enchiladas.  I made them special for you so you’re going to eat all of it, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am” Dean grinned at her.

She turned to Sam, appraising him.  “I don’t think we’ve met.  I’m Yanette Guerrero, Ed’s wife.”

Sam stood up and shook her hand.  “Hi.  I’m Sam.” 

“Guys, I want you to meet someone.” Dean said to the kids still clinging to his jeans.  “Marta, David, this is Sam.  Sam, this is Marta and David.” 

Marta approached Sam and held out her hand politely.  “Hello.”

He took her tiny hand in his.  “Nice to meet you, Marta.”

“David,” Yanette said, her voice taking on that classic mother tone.  “Say hi to Sam.”

David looked up at him in awe and then quickly hid his face against Dean’s leg.

“He’s shy,” Marta informed him.

“It’s okay,” he laughed.  “I was shy when I was his age too.”

Yanette scooped David up and sat him on her hip.  “So this is where you live when you don’t live on my couch?” she joked with Dean.  “I like it.”

“It’s not half bad,” Dean said setting the dish on the patio table.  “We’re looking after it for a friend of a friend.”  He pulled out a chair for Yanette before sitting down himself. 

Sam only just stopped himself from commenting on it.  He didn’t think he’d ever seen Dean so unconsciously thoughtful towards a woman he wasn’t sleeping with.  The Guerreros must have really been a good influence on him.

Marta climbed right into Dean’s lap as if she belonged there.  “Daddy said you have a hurt, Mr. Dean,” she said, staring up at him owlishly through the thick fringe of her bangs.

“It’s just my wrist, sweetie.  It doesn’t hurt very much.  And see?  The doctors put this special cast on my arm to keep it safe while it heals.” 

Marta poked his cast gently, testing how firm it was.  Sam thought she might just be the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

“You know what?” Dean said.  “The coolest part about getting a cast is that your friends can sign their names on it.  Do you wanna sign my cast?”

Marta gasped excitedly.  “Can David sign it too?”

“Of course he can!  Come on.  Let’s go see if we can find a marker.”

Dean led the kids into the house, leaving Sam and Yanette alone on the porch.

“How’s he doing really?” Yanette said as soon as they were out of ear shot.

“He’s okay.  He’s tough.”

Yanette wrung her hands together worriedly.  “I hate to think of what might have happened.  You think you live in a safe place and then something like this…I take the kids to the marina all the time to watch the boats come in.  Marta loves to feed the seagulls.”

Another piece of Dean’s story about the Leviathan clicked into place in Sam’s head.  It wasn’t just a spur of the moment decision to check out that case like he’d said it was.  Dean was protecting these people who considered him part of their family.

“I think whoever it was got more than they bargained for when they ran into Dean,” He assured her.  “I doubt they’ll be back.”

“I hope you’re right.  You know, we miss having him around but he seems happy to be home.” 

“I think so.  I hope he is.” Sam smiled wanly. 

“You make sure you take good care of him,” Yanette ordered.  “He’s a special guy.”

“Yes ma’am.  He sure is.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Oh my god!  That was amazing.  I think I’m in love,” Dean groaned, patting his belly.

“I don’t think Ed would appreciate you talking like that about his wife,” Sam joked.

“I was talking about her cooking.  Besides, Ed already knows she likes me better.”

“What are these called again?” Cas asked around a mouthful of food.

“Enchiladas” Sam told him, rising to put his plate in the sink.

“Mmm!  Very good,” Cas commented.  “We should have these more often.”

“We can have them anytime you want, Cas.  As soon as you learn how to make them,” Dean joked.

Cas picked at his food, considering it.  “I think I could do that.  The construction seems fairly simple.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean perked up.  “Hey, if you want to try your hand at cooking for us I’m totally on board.  How about pie?”

“Oh Christ!  Cas, you have no idea what you just got yourself into,” Sam laughed.

“Fruit, cream, or savory?” Cas clarified.

Dean gaped at him.  No way.  “Um, all of the above?”

“Okay, you guys have fun planning Cas’s future adventures in baking,” Sam announced.  “My laptop and I are going to be searching for jobs.”

“Wait.  What now?” Dean swiveled around in his chair.  “Since when?  Where are you going to work?”

“I don’t know,” Sam shrugged.  “I’ll figure something out.  Someone’s got to keep food on the table while you’re on the mend.” 

Sam grabbed his laptop off the coffee table and retreated to their bedroom.

“Well,” Dean sighed.  “I guess it’s just me and you, Cas.  So you’ve been spending a lot of time with this chick Alissa I hear?”

Cas smiled wistfully.  “Yes.  I like her very much.  I’m still learning a lot.  I’ve seen so much over the centuries but always as an outside observer.  I didn’t realize how much I didn’t know.  It’s frustrating at times but Alissa’s very patient with me.  I feel…at peace when she’s around.”

“That’s great, Cas.  I’m happy for you,” Dean said, patting him on the back.  “Peaceful is nice.  Anything - you know, less _peaceful_ going on between you two yet?”

Cas cocked his head to the side.  “What do you mean?”

“You know,” Dean coughed awkwardly.  “Like sex.”

“Oh,” Cas said, blushing slightly.  “Well I haven’t penetrated her if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Jesus, Cas!” Dean groaned.  “You make it sound so clinical.”

“I’m sorry.  Is that not the term?”

“No it is just – never mind.  Okay, so you haven’t had sex with her.  That’s fine.  She’s a nice girl.  Nice girls don’t usually put out for a while.  But you’ve done other stuff, right?”

“Yes.  We’ve engaged in other sexual acts.  Foreplay, Sam called it.  I like it very much,” Cas confessed.  “Alissa seems to derive a great amount of pleasure from it as well if her rate of orgasm is any indication.”

“Wow, okay.  TMI.”  Dean could barely digest that information before his mind circled back around to one point in particular.  “Wait.  Did you say Sam?  You had ‘the talk’ with Sam?”

“Yes.  Apparently there’s a great deal more to sexual congress than what the Pizzaman typically demonstrates.”

Dean’s brain sputtered and stalled like an old car engine.  “Sam?  _My Sam_?”

“Yes.  I only know one Sam, Dean.”

“What did he-.”  God, why was it so hot all of a sudden?  Fucking Florida.  “What did he tell you?”

“Lots of things.  Do you want specifics?”  Cas frowned at him in confusion.  “I was under the impression you had extensive knowledge of these matters.”

“I do!  ‘Course I do.  Shit, I could tell you stories that would set your hair on fire,” Dean boasted.  “That’s not my point.”

“What is your point?”

 Dean didn’t really have a point.  He just couldn’t get his mind around Sam telling Cas how to make a girl come.  Sam had always blushed and stammered when Dean had tried to bring up the subject with him.  Either that or yelled at him to stop being so gross.  But come to think of it that had been a long time ago.  Back when Sam was just starting to go through puberty himself, all gangly long limbs and teenage awkwardness.  He could only imagine what Sam might say now.  Explaining exactly what to do to make a girl wet.  Things he knew from experience.

“Dean?”

Dean blinked at him, realizing then that he’d let his mind wander off.  “What?”

Cas hesitated.  He looked concerned.  “May I ask you a personal question?”

“Yeah.  Sure.  Something on your mind?”

Cas nodded but he seemed like he nervous about what to say next.  “I’m worried about you, Dean.”

“Me?”

“Yes.  You deserve to be happy.  So does Sam.  This recent discord between you…it seems illogical to me for you to be distancing yourself from Sam when you obviously both love each other very much.”

Dean couldn’t believe his ears.  Cas couldn’t mean?  No.  He must be imagining things.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Dean began.  “But it’s okay, really.  Sam’s my brother.  We fight sometimes, but that doesn’t mean we stop being brothers.  That’s how real families work.  Our problem is that we’re just both too stubborn for our own good sometimes.”

“I agree.  But that’s not what I meant.  Are you deliberately being obtuse?” Cas asked offhandedly.  “I can’t tell with you sometimes.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“Obtuse.  It means annoyingly insensitive or slow to understand,” Cas informed him.

“I know what obtuse means!” Dean shouted in frustration.  “What did you mean when you said that’s not what you meant.”

Cas stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.  “I’m not sure I follow you.  Maybe I didn’t make myself clear enough.  When I said that you and Sam love each other very much, I wasn’t speaking of fraternal love.  Well in your case not that exclusively.  I was speaking of romantic love.  _Eros_ in the original Greek.  Does that help?”

Dean’s mind ground to a dead halt.  He jumped up from the kitchen table, sending his chair skidding backwards.  He felt his heart beating a mile a minute.  “That’s not true!” he insisted emphatically.  “Where’d you get a crazy idea like that?  We’re _brothers_ , Cas!  That would be all kinds of wrong.”

“Dean, I have held your soul in my hands,” Cas reminded him patiently.  “I reconstructed your body cell by cell.  I catalogued every thought and memory and instinct in your mind.  There is nothing that I don’t know about you.  There’s no use in denying this, not to me.”

Suddenly the beginnings of that sick panicky feeling in Dean’s chest were swept away by a righteous indignation.

“You knew!  Do you mean to tell me that you saw this coming?  This whole time?  And you didn’t say one goddamn word to either of us?”

Cas squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.  “I’d never seen anything like it before.  Your soul…you have to understand, it’s impossibly beautiful Dean, and so very strong.  But when you’re near Sam I can hear it _sing_ , like steel does when it’s struck with a hammer.  It recognizes it’s other half in him and it wants to be made one again.”

“Wait!  You think we’re like s-soulmates?” Ash had said something like that once but Dean didn’t exactly think of him as an authority on the subject.  How seriously can you take a guy who rocks a mullet?

“This goes beyond soulmates.  There is no word for what you are.” 

“Oh, great!  So what?  We’re mutants?  Freaks?”

Cas sighed as old things do when they are so put upon by foolish children.  “Those labels were invented by man, not God.  His creations are always perfectly designed for their purposes, although we may not always understand them.  What I mean is, you and your brother are anomalies.  The fact that you share the same blood however does complicate things.”

“Ya think?” Dean said sarcastically.

Cas glared at him in annoyance.  “It’s one of the many reasons that I didn’t tell you.  You’re lives are complicated enough as it is.  Typically speaking, incest is frowned upon both in Heaven and on Earth but there have been exceptions made in the past; special cases.  And you and Sam are indeed very special.”

Dean regarded him warily.  “Exceptions?”

“Yes.  Your bible is full of them.  Abraham married his half-sister Sara.  Nachor married his niece Melcha.  Amram married his aunt Jochabed.  Lot copulated with two of his daughters before they fled Sodom and Gomorra.  No one seems to see the irony in that part of the story.”

“Sure,” Dean offered lamely.  He had no idea what he was even saying anymore.  Cas however was on a roll.

“Eve was of Adam’s own flesh and together they populated the earth,” he continued.  “Although since she was technically Adam’s direct clone I suppose some may construe their relationship to be something closer to a case of incest between genetic twins.  Not that Adam really had any other options at the time but that’s neither here nor there.  And then of course there was Cain and Abel.  Admittedly that ended badly.”

“Cain and Abel?” Dean jumped in.  “No way!  That story I remember.  There was nothing about…you know – between them.  Cain killed Abel!”

“Well what did you think that was all about?  A flock of sheep?” Cas rolled his eyes at him.  “It was a crime of passion.  The first love triangle.  Abel took great offense when Cain cast him off and married their sister.  Understandably, I’d say.”

Dean collapsed into his chair and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands.  “Holy shit!”  His mind was left spinning with everything Cas had told him.

“Are you okay, Dean?”

“Yeah.  Just -- Just give me a minute.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Cas said, placing a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder.  “I just wanted you to know that I don’t think you’re wrong to love Sam the way you do.  Judging by the way my Father made the pair of you, I don’t think he’d call it wrong either.” 

Dean looked up and saw the earnest concern on his friend’s face.  He really believed what he’d said.  He knew Dean’s secret and he didn’t hate him or judge him for it.  Gratitude didn’t even begin to describe how Dean felt in that moment so he did the best he could with the words he did have. 

“Thanks, Cas.”

“You’re welcome.”

~~~

Sam was sitting up in bed filling out an online application for a job at the local library when Dean finally walked in and shut the bedroom door quietly behind him.

“Hey,” Dean muttered.  He looked completely worn out.

“Hey.  How’re you feeling?” Sam asked, setting his laptop on the nightstand.

Dean shrugged and leaned against the dresser.  “Okay.  A little tired maybe.”

“Well, you’re body’s trying to heal itself.  And you’re probably still catching up on lost sleep.”

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders visibly tensing up.  He seemed awfully broody about the subject of sleep and with good reason.

Sam gnawed at his bottom lip nervously.  He wanted to help his brother but he wasn’t sure if Dean was going to let him.  “I got some ideas off the web about how to help with your nightmares.”

“Yeah?  Like what?”  Dean asked apprehensively.

“Music for starters.  Some people seem to think that falling asleep to soothing music helps you have a more restful sleep.  It also helps with lucid dreaming.  You know like - if you’re having a nightmare and you want to get in control of it you’re supposed to listen for the music to help remind yourself that the real world is still there waiting for you on the other side of it.”

“You think that will work?”  There was a little flicker of cautious hopefulness in Dean’s voice.  Sam latched onto it excitedly.

“Yeah.  I think so.  Couldn’t hurt right?  I’ve got a bunch of songs on my laptop.  Why don’t you get ready for bed and we’ll give it a shot?”

Dean grumbled at him as he padded off towards the bathroom.  “None of that whiny coffeehouse bullshit.  I want to sleep, not commit hari-kari”

Sam elected to ignore him and set about making their room as comfortable as possible.  He fluffed up their pillows and opened the window so the night breeze could keep the room nice and cool.  He grabbed a few candles that they typically used for rituals from his duffel and lit them, creating a cozy glow. 

When Dean walked in, face washed and teeth brushed, Sam was clicking through his playlists to find anything that his brother might actually be able tolerate. 

Dean glanced around the room skeptically.  “Candles?  We doing a séance here or something?”

“Just shut-up and lie down,” Sam instructed him.

They both stripped down to their boxers and settled under the sheets.  When Dean was lying comfortably on his back, cast-covered arm resting on top of his chest, Sam leaned over and pushed a button on his laptop.  Hover by Five Times August began to play softly.

Dean lay there quietly just looking up at the ceiling.  No snide comments.  No moaning and groaning about the music choice.  It was so unlike him, that it actually weirded Sam out. 

“Dean?  Is this ok?”

Dean shifted onto his side to face Sam, but didn’t answer.  He stared at Sam’s chest, watching it rise and fall with his breath.  Sam felt the weight of his gaze on his skin like a caress, so much so that it seemed only natural when Dean’s knuckles timidly brushed over his sternum. 

Sam didn’t dare speak.  He didn’t want to break whatever spell had come over the room.

Dean licked his lips nervously.  It was his most blatant tell, but in that moment Sam had no idea what might be going on inside his head.  That’s why he was caught off guard when Dean leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss over his heart. 

Sam’s breath hitched automatically in response. 

Dean didn’t back way though.  He petted Sam’s skin where his lips had touched and then kissed him again. 

Sam wanted to reach out and touch him so badly.  But he didn’t want to scare Dean off, so he held himself rigidly still while Dean gave him little feather-light kisses across his torso like he was chasing an invisible hurt away. 

Finally Dean looked up at Sam, searching his face for something.  For what, Sam didn’t know.  “You’re okay,” Dean whispered.  It wasn’t really a question, so much as a confirmation.

“Yeah,” Sam said breathlessly.  “I’m okay.  Are you?”

Dean licked his lips again and nodded.  This time when he shifted close to Sam again, he leaned up and kissed Sam’s mouth. 

Sam closed his eyes, all of his senses focused on the feel of his brother’s full moist lips against his.  He didn’t dare move a muscle other than to return the soft pressure of Dean’s mouth, responding but not demanding anything more.

Dean kissed him slowly and tentatively as if he expected Sam to push him away at any moment.  When that didn’t happen, he eventually grew bolder.  He parted his mouth and licked at Sam’s lips, seeking entrance.

Sam whimpered in his throat and opened for him eagerly.  They kissed lazily, taking their time to just explore one another.  Sam was in no rush.  He’d been waiting his whole life to have Dean like this, watching jealously from the sidelines while his big brother gave himself so casually to complete strangers.  It was the only part of Dean that didn’t already belong to Sam, but he had always been greedy to have it all.  Now that he felt like he finally did, he was happy to take the time to cherish every minute.

They kissed and the heat between them spread like a slow burn until Sam felt his cock grow hard.  He tried to angle his hips away, hoping that Dean hadn’t noticed.  He didn’t think they were ready for that just yet. 

Dean reacted automatically to shift of Sam’s body by following after him and closing the distance between them once more.  The bed dipped slightly beneath them and Sam felt the thick weight of Dean’s cock against his thigh.  He was hard too.

Nearly drunk on Dean’s kisses, Sam took a chance and rolled his hips.  His cock nudged against his brother’s stomach.

Dean stilled and pulled away a bit.

Fuck.  Sam wanted to kick himself.  He’d pushed too far.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered gently.  “We can stop.”

Dean pouted slightly, lips rubbed red and swollen.  The tops of his cheeks were flushed with arousal.  Sam didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more beautiful. 

“No,” Dean said.  “I want…”

“What?  Anything you want, Dean,” Sam urged.

Dean hesitated like he didn’t know how to answer.  Instead, he kissed Sam again, rolling him back on the bed until Dean was on top of him, pressing his hips flush against him and letting his cock rub along the crease of Sam’s thigh.

Sam groaned and rutted up against him.  He slid his hand onto the curve of Dean’s waist and held him steady, increasing the pressure and that sweet spark of friction between them.

Dean hid his face in the crook of Sam’s neck and panted in hot little moans as they ground together.  “Sammy,” he breathed.

“God.  Dean.”  Somehow those words sounded like one and the same in Sam’s head.

Dean tilted his hips, dragging his dick along the hard line of Sam’s length.  Sam threw his head back and gasped.  “Oh!  Like that.  S-so good.”

They thrust faster, pushing each other closer and closer to the edge.  The electric pleasure of their cocks sliding against each other was maddening, even through two layers of cotton boxers.  Sam felt his orgasm building and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Oh fuck!  Dean!  Don’t stop.  I’m gonna -- I’m gonna come.”

“Sam,” Dean whimpered.

Sam came like a shot, clutching Dean’s waist and riding the thick bulge of his dick, rocking against Dean as a wave of endorphins raced through his blood.

Dean’s hips pumped erratically as he chased his own release.  “Sam!”

“Come on, Dean.  It’s okay.” Sam soothed.  “Just let go.”

Dean thrust a few more times and then cried out, his back arching like an archer’s bow as he came. 

When it was over and they were capable of moving again they shucked off their messy boxers, using them to wipe the come off themselves.  Sam blew out the candles and pulled the sheets up over both of them from where they’d bunched down around their ankles. 

Dean curled in on himself, drawing his arms and legs up almost to the fetal position with his back to Sam.  He was breathing heavily, eyes screwed tightly shut.

“Dean?” Sam asked tentatively.  “Talk to me.  Are you ok?”

“I don’t know, man” Dean said.  “I want to be.”

“It’s ok if you’re not.”  Sam cuddled up close next to him.  He kept a careful inch or so of distance between his front and Dean’s back, not entirely sure if his brother wanted to be touched anymore at the moment. 

“I didn’t expect all that,” Sam confessed.  “Honestly, I didn’t.  I don’t want you to think you have to do anything you’re not ready for just cause you think it’s what I want.  Don’t get me wrong, it was perfect.  You were perfect.  But you don’t need to rush things for my sake.  I’ll love you no matter what.”

Dean was quiet for long time.  He was turned the other way so Sam couldn’t see his face, but he was pretty sure Dean hadn’t fallen asleep just yet. 

Finally Dean inched backward, letting himself just barely lean against Sam.  “Say it again.”

Sam was confused for a moment until he realized what Dean needed to hear.

“I’ll love you no matter what.”

That night, Dean slept peacefully with Sam spooned around him.


	8. Chapter 8

Every night for three weeks, Dean fell asleep with his brother by his side.  Sometimes it was enough to fend off the worst of his dreams, but some nights they just wouldn’t be quieted.  When that happened and Dean felt like he was trapped in that chamber again with Alastair, he listened for Sam’s music.  That tenuous grip on the one thing that he knew was real in the midst of all the pain and the torture was usually enough to convince himself that he was still in control.  He imagined himself breaking his bonds and carrying Sam to safety.  More often than not it worked. 

There were other nights when nothing worked and nothing could keep him from reliving his greatest fears; hurting Sam, losing Sam. 

When he woke up in the middle of the night, heart pounding in his chest and his lungs seized up in panic, Sam was there to soothe him.  As much as Dean hated the reason that it was necessary he secretly loved knowing that through it all he wasn’t alone.

Every night, he and Sam made out like teenagers.  At times, simple kisses and caresses were enough.  Other times they rutted together with a desperate need that Dean felt completely overwhelmed by.  He wanted.  Holy God, he _wanted_.  But every time he came close to just taking what Sam seemed eager to offer, Alastair’s voice echoed in his head, reminding him that he wasn’t worthy of it.

It was strange for him to rely on Sam in the way that he found himself doing, looking to his baby brother for his quiet acceptance and support.  It was a whole new facet of their relationship that they’d never explored, uncharted territory for both of them.  Dean had always felt like it was his job to bear the brunt of the responsibility in their relationship as brothers.  More than just the fact of him being the eldest, taking care of Sam was just a part of who he was.

He didn’t know what it was like to have parents in the real sense that other children did.  Parents who cooed over every gold star and coddled them through every cut and bruise.  Not that he’d ever disparage what life lessons John had imparted.  He’d done the best he was capable of by his sons, but it was different.  Dean hadn’t had the same kind of upbringing that Sam had in a lot of ways because Dean had made sure that Sam had more.  He had always done it gladly, knowing instinctually that Sam was worth whatever petty childhood conventions that Dean had given up.

He was comfortable in that role of being whatever Sam needed.  What he wasn’t entirely comfortable with was being the one who needed someone else.  It irked him in ways he couldn’t articulate.  John had taught him to despise weakness.  Dean felt all he was lately was weak.

It was made even worse in Dean’s mind by the fact that all of a sudden Sam had a real job.  Ed was nice enough to hold Dean’s job for him while his wrist was mending but in the meantime Sam had taken the job at the reference desk of the library.  Now he was the one who was bringing home the bacon.  Dean was proud of his brother for stepping up.  There was no question about that.  But, at the same time it made him feel kinda useless.  He didn’t have a clear task at hand anymore to give him that forward momentum that he’d always relied on to keep himself out of his own head.  It was frustrating as hell.

Since he was home all day healing he found that he had way too much time on his hands.  It made him restless and cranky.  He hung-out with Cas whenever he was around but it seemed like even Cas had better things to do now that he was following after Alissa like a lovesick puppydog.  When Dean was home alone he tried to keep himself busy by messing with the Impala as much as his cast would allow.  He fixed what few things needed fixing around the cottage.  Then he fixed a few other things that didn’t really need fixing at all. 

In the afternoons, he started going over to Ed and Yanette’s to watch the kids for them while both of them were at work.  That was his favorite part of the day.  He’d pick the little kids up from daycare and listen to their stories about who pulled who’s hair during art time.  Then when the older girls got home from school they’d regale him with their own stories of who was crushing on who’s boyfriend.  He looked forward to it more than he’d ever admit.

One Friday afternoon Yanette came home from work loaded down with grocery bags while Dean was helping Gabriella with her math homework.  Victoria was on her cell phone, attached to it like it was an extension of her hand.  Marta and David were chasing each other around the back yard blowing bubbles from little plastic bottles that Dean had picked up for them at the dollar store.

“Hey everybody,” she sighed wearily, setting down her bags.

“What’s all this?” Dean asked, poking through the nearest one. 

Yanette smacked his hand away.  “No touching!  That’s for tomorrow.  You’re coming right?”

“Huh?”

“We’re having a barbeque,” Gaby told him excitedly.

“Oh.  Um, yeah if you guys want me to.”

“Don’t be stupid, Flaco.  Of course we want you!  You’re family.”  Yanette said matter-of-factly.

Dean looked at Gaby.  “What did she call me?”

Gaby giggled at him.  “Skinny.”

Dean looked himself over.  Between the stress of his unpredictable sleep patterns and lack of exercise now that he wasn’t hunting all the time he’d grown lean in places where before he’d been bulky with muscle.  It didn’t help that the t-shirt he’d borrowed from Sam was at least a full size too big for him.  “Am not,” he replied petulantly.

“Are too,” Yanette countered.  “But we’ll stuff you so full of Ed’s famous carne asada that you’ll fill right out.  Oh, and make sure you tell Sam he’s invited too.”

“Okay.  Do you mind if my friend Cas and his girlfriend tag along?”

“Sure!  The more the merrier.”

The next day when they showed up for the BBQ, Ed’s yard was full of people.  Between the large size of the extended Guerrero family, their friends, and all of Ed’s construction guys, there had to be at least fifty people there and an untold amount of little kids running around playing.  Music was playing from a stereo that someone had dragged out to the patio and there were folding tables piled high with food and coolers of beer. 

Cas showed up with Alissa in her VW Beetle.  Dean tried his best not to judge her too hard for driving such a girl car.  She was immediate forgiven though when he saw the strawberry pie she’d brought.

“Homemade?” he asked sniffing it.

“Is there any other kind?” she winked at him.

“Cas, marry this girl.”

Cas blushed.  “Dean, I – Oh, you’re being facetious – I get it.”  Alissa just laughed and hugged him around the waist.

Ed took an instant liking to Cas after he learned Cas spoke fluent Spanish.  He kept him busy, introducing him around and doubling over in laughter at the shock on his cousin’s faces when Cas started speaking to them with a perfect accent.

Sam was a particular hit with the kids because they all thought he was some kind of giant.  Ed’s nieces and nephews crawled all over him like he was a jungle gym.  David had also apparently gotten over his initial shyness and was dragging Sam all over by the hand, telling him in excited three year old ramblings about where he’d buried all his plastic dinosaurs and what their neighbor’s dog had done that week.

Dean and Alissa sat together in a couple of folding chairs with plates of food balanced on their knees watching as Sam tossed David up in the air playfully.  David was squealing in delight as he took flight.  “Again!  Again!” he demanded.

“So you and Cas seem pretty serious.” Dean commented around a mouthful of guacamole.

“Yeah, I think we are,” Alissa smiled.  “He’s just the sweetest thing.  So different from any guy I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, he’s different alright,” Dean laughed.

“You know…my friend Katie’s been asking about you,” Alissa admitted.

Dean had to think for a minute before he even remembered her.  Katie, right.  Alissa’s friend from the bar.  So much had happened between them since then that he really hadn’t thought twice about her.

 “Katie…yeah.  So what did you say?”

“Well I hope you don’t mind,” Alissa began.  “But I told her that she was probably better off if she just looked elsewhere.  Was I wrong?  I mean you and Sam…”  She trailed off, raising an eyebrow at him meaningfully.

Dean nearly choked on his food.  “Me and Sam, we’re ah…well shit, I don’t know what we are exactly.”  How the hell could he even begin to explain what he and Sam were to each other?

“Oh!  Castiel always talks about you two as if you’ve been together a long time.”

Dean cleared his throat.  “Well, yes and no.”  God, this conversation just could not get any more awkward.  “I guess you could say we’ve known each other pretty much our whole lives.  It’s just recently that things have…changed.”

“But you’re happy with him, right?” she asked.  “I mean, it certainly looks that way.  Am I being too nosy?  You can tell me if I am.  I won’t be offended.”

“No it’s okay,” Dean assured her.  “I guess I just never had to think about it like that before.  I mean - It’s hard to explain.  It’s just always been me and him.”

“Well I know I haven’t known you for long but if it helps, I think he’s completely head over heels for you,” She confessed.  “He just lights up when he talks about you.  It’s like no one else even exists.”

“He talks about me?” Dean asked cautiously.

“You were the only thing he could talk about the whole time you were gone.”

Dean fell silent, deep in thought.  He watched as Sam crouched down on the ground next to David while the little guy loaded handfuls of dirt into the back of his toy dump truck. 

Sam deserved to be with someone great.  Someone who was smart and kind and not broken inside.  Someone who he could be proud to be with.  He deserved a nice normal life like Ed’s with a wife and kids.  Sam would be a great dad.

“Dean?” Alissa asked.  “Did I say something wrong?”

“What?  No.  No you’re fine.  Sorry, just got a lot of things on my mind.  You want a beer?  I’m going to go get us some beers.”

Dean took off across the lawn without waiting for her to respond.

~~~

Late that night when they got home from the BBQ, Sam was exhausted.  Ed’s nieces and nephews had run him ragged.  He’d given David a piggyback ride and then had to give about ten more after that because he just couldn’t say no.  He couldn’t wait to get to bed.

Dean had been suspiciously quiet the whole way home.  He’d had a few more beers than was strictly kosher for a family-friendly party but so had most of Ed’s construction guys so Sam didn’t think too much of it.  Cas and Alissa had left hours before.  Cas was staying the night at Alissa’s which was a first for them.  Sam had expected Dean to make some kind of vaguely lewd comment or at least give Cas some last minute advice.  Dean hadn’t mentioned anything about it.  He’d just given Alissa a quick hug which wasn’t really like him - when had they become so close all of a sudden? – and had tossed Sam the keys to the Impala. 

As soon as they walked in the front door to the cottage, Dean grabbed a beer from the fridge and lay out on the couch in front of the TV.

“Dean aren’t you tired?  Come on, let’s go to bed.” Sam said, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m fine here.  You go ahead,” Dean said, flipping the channels and avoiding Sam’s gaze.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.  I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.  Look, whatever it is can you please just talk to me about it?”

Dean shut off the TV and all of sudden the silence in the room was deafening.  Dean sat forward with head in his hands.  “This isn’t going to work out Sammy,” he said quietly.  “We need to stop.”

Sam was too stunned to speak at first.  He had to be hearing wrong.  “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded.

“I’m talking about us.  This!” he said, waving his hand between them.  “Whatever this is between us.  It’s not right and we both know it.  It needs to stop before it goes any deeper than it already has.”

No.  He couldn’t mean it.  Not after everything they’d already been through.  “I don’t know what the fuck you think _this_ is but let me tell you Dean – it doesn’t get any deeper!  _This_ is as deep as anything can possibly get, so don’t give me that bullshit like I’m some casual hookup you can just toss aside.  I know you better than that.”

“It’s not right, Sam,” his brother insisted.

Sam curled his hands into tight fists at his sides.  It was all he could do to stop himself from throwing something.  “You’re full of shit and you know it!  Nothing in our lives has been more right.  Nothing!”

“It’s a sin!” Dean shouted.

Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Rage pounded hot and heavy in his blood.  “Really, Dean?  You want to go there?  How about all that pre-marital sex you’ve had.  That’s a sin isn’t it?  But hey, everyone does it right?  We’ll just worry about the big ones then.  Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Envy, Pride, and don’t forget about Wrath.  I’m thinking you’ve got a big ol’ check mark next to every single one on your résumé, Dean.”

“Fuck you!” Dean snarled.

“That’s not enough?” Sam continued.  He was so blindingly mad he just couldn’t stop himself.  “How about ‘Thou shall not kill’?  ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you’ve never had an issue with that one.  That’s on the fucking top ten list of sins and you’ve never even batted an eye about it before.”

Dean’s face flushed with anger.  “I killed monsters!  Monsters, Sam!  Those fuckers deserved to die for what they did.  It’s not the same.”

“Oh, so exceptions can be made?  I didn’t realize!”  Sam said sarcastically.  “So then why not us, Dean?  Huh?  How come you can give _killing_ a pass under certain conditions but you can’t handle loving me?”

Dean went stone silent and stared stubbornly at the floor.  Sam could see the muscles of his jaw flex as he clenched his teeth tightly; another one of his tells.  Dean didn’t really believe a goddamn word of what he was saying.  So then why the hell was he saying it?

 “I can tell when you’re lying, you know.  You might be able to lie to yourself about this but you can’t lie to me.  Why don’t you save us both some time and tell me what this is really about?”

Dean stood and turned to face him.  “You don’t belong with me Sam.  You deserve better.”

Sam punched him dead in the mouth.  His fist shot out before he was even aware it was happening.  Dean stumbled back a step and held his jaw where Sam had struck him.

“Don’t you ever say that to me again!” Sam warned.  His hands were shaking and his voice was little more than a tightly controlled growl.  “You don’t get to decide what I deserve!  And don’t you dare tell me there’s anyone on this whole fucking earth that’s better for me than you!  There is no one but you and there will never be anyone but you.  So get with the fucking program already.”

Sam left him there staring wide-eyed in shock and holding his jaw while he went to bed alone. 

Fuck him.  He could sleep on the couch.

~~~

_Sam screamed and wailed out in pain.  It was the worst sound that Dean had ever heard.  He would have given anything to not be the cause of it._

_As the sound of his brother’s misery echoed off the chamber walls, Dean felt his cock go instantly limp and he knew Alastair’s spell was broken.  He pulled out of Sam and quickly backed away from him.  “Sammy?”_

_Sam curled in on himself, freed from Alastair’s hold but in far too much pain to move.  He hugged his arms to his body and sobbed weakly._

_You did that to him, Dean's mind screamed.  His Sammy.  His baby brother._

_The room around him seemed to spin in slow motion.  Dean doubled over and retched, muscles convulsing as his stomach rebelled at what his mind struggled to process.  “Sam?”_

_Sam was just lying there, facing the wall.  Something was wrong.  Sam was free.  He was supposed to leave, wasn’t he?_

_That was where the dream usually ended.  Every time, it ended with Sam screaming and Dean blacking out.  But he was still awake now, inside this unholy nightmare where his memories wouldn’t stop replaying themselves over and over again.  What more could his mind possibly handle?  What more did it want him to see?_

_Dean crawled toward Sam, clawing his way across the floor to where his brother lay motionless.  “Sam?  Sam, please.  Talk to me.  Say something.”  He reached out and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder._

_Sam jerked at his touch and spun his head around.  He looked Dean right in the eye and he smiled with a wicked kind of glee._

_His hazel eyes flashed pitch black._

_“Hey Dean.  Was it good for you too?”_

_~~~_

Dean burst into the bedroom, his heart pounding so hard that it felt it like was going to explode out of his chest.  “Black!”

Sam startled awake.  “What?  Dean!  What happened?”

Dean fell to his knees by the side of bed.  The relief was quite simply overwhelming.  It wasn’t Sam.  It was all a trick. 

“I had the dream again,” Dean told him.  “This time it just kept going.  I stayed in it longer than I ever had before.  It was all over, and then I saw your eyes.  But they weren’t your eyes, Sam.  They were black.  Demon black.  It tricked me into thinking it was you, but it was a fucking demon all along.  They did it to break me!  They figured out the worst thing they could do to me was to hurt you and then they broke me with it.”

“C’mere.” Sam pulled him up onto the bed and hugged him tight.  “I told you it wasn’t me.”

Dean clung to him as he felt his throat choke up with tears.  “I know.  And I know you said you forgave me already, but I needed to know for sure.”

Sam dropped a kiss to the top of his shoulder and pulled back just enough so that he could look Dean in the eye.  “This doesn’t change anything.  It wasn’t your fault before and it still isn’t your fault, no matter whether it was a demon or not.”

Dean sighed out a shaky breath.  “It mattered to me.  I needed to know for me.”

“So now you know.  Time to forgive yourself, okay?”

“I’m getting there.” Dean smiled ruefully.

Sam smiled back at him but he quickly grew serious again, his expression becoming carefully guarded.  “What about what you said before?  About me and you?”

Dean looked into his brothers eyes and he knew there was no other choice for either of them.  He didn’t know how they were going to manage it or what the future might hold but he was going to try his damnedest to make sure that he was good enough for Sam. 

“I guess I gotta get with the fucking program.”

Before Sam could respond, Dean captured his mouth in a searing kiss.  He wasn’t the kind of guy who could bring himself to say the things he wanted to in words, so he decided to express himself in the best way he knew how to. 

Dean stripped his shirt off, managing to avoid snagging it on his cast, and tossed it on the floor.  A moment later his pants joined it there.

Sam ogled him for a second before his mind finally caught up.  He scrambled to get out of his clothes, almost sending the lamp careening off the nightstand in the process.

Dean attacked his mouth again, frantic to lose himself completely in Sam’s kisses.  Sam responded immediately, moaning against his lips and running his hands over every inch of Dean’s torso that he could reach.  Dean arched against him when Sam rubbed his thumbs over his nipples, teasing them with little circles that sent a flood of heat right to his cock.

“Sam,” he groaned.  “Want you.”

Sam kissed his way around to the soft spot behind Dean’s ear.  “Are you sure?” he asked, his breath tickling goosebumps up from his skin.

“Yeah.  I want to…” Dean hesitated, half-embarrassed of what he was asking for.  “I want to fuck you.  God, I _really_ want to fuck you.  But I-I’m…I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

“It’s okay.” Sam rushed out, peppering his neck with kisses.  “We don’t have to have sex tonight.  There’s plenty of other things we can do.  I can make it really good.”

“No.  What I mean is…I want you to fuck me.”

Sam froze.  He pulled back and cupped Dean’s face gently in his hands.  “Are you sure about this?  I need you to be sure.”

Dean took a deep breath.  “Yeah.  I need it.  Need you.”

“Okay.”  Sam nodded and leaned in to kiss him gently.  “Okay.  I think it will be better for your wrist if you lie on your back.”

They both wriggled out of their boxers and Dean lay back against the pillows, stroking his cock slowly as Sam dug into the nightstand. 

Dean raised an eyebrow at him when he pulled out lube and a condom.  “How long have those been in there?”

Sam stared at the motion of Dean’s hand on himself as if transfixed.  “A while…I wanted to be ready when you were.  _Jesus_.  You have no idea how hot you look doing that.”

Dean reached lower and tugged gently at his balls.  “You just gonna watch me all night or are you going to do something about it?”

Sam smirked at the challenge in his voice.  He slicked up his fingers and knelt in the bow of Dean’s open legs, massaging one against his hole. 

Dean groaned and let his legs fall open wider shamelessly. 

“Got to work you open first on my fingers,” Sam told him, his voice thick with lust.  “Get you ready to take me.  Then I’ll show you what I can do.”

Dean felt his cock get harder just hearing Sam talk like that.   It shocked him in a way that flash flooded his blood with excitement.  He tilted his hips up, offering himself up to Sam eagerly.

Sam slid his finger slowly into Dean’s hole, watching the muscle clutch and flutter against the intrusion.  “ _Fuck_ , Dean.  So goddamn tight.”

Dean rocked against Sam’s finger, feeling it twist inside him.  It was good, but it wasn’t enough.  “More.”

Sam added another finger, scissoring them and massaging his inner muscles to loosen them up.  When he rubbed against Dean’s prostate, it sent sparks of pleasure coursing up his spine.  Dean threw his head back against the pillow moaning loudly.  “Right there!  Oh god.  Right fucking there.”

Sam kissed the inside of Dean’s thigh.  “Can you take another one?  Still so tight.  I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah,” Dean gasped.  “Do it.  Hurry.”

Sam pressed in, fucking Dean on three of his fingers.  Dean rocked against him, leaking pre-come from his slit.  There was a little bit of burn at first but it faded quickly into _holy-shit-that’s-good_. 

“Sam!  Come on.  Now,” he groaned.

“Okay.  Hold on.”

Dean whimpered at the empty feeling when he pulled his fingers free. 

Sam rolled on the condom and slicked his dick up.  “So hot, Dean.  All fucked open for me.  You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

Dean blushed red all the way down to his chest.  “Shut-up and fuck me already.”

Sam lined himself up and slid in slowly.  Dean felt himself stretching around his brother’s cock.  Filling him up more than he thought was possible.  It took his breath away.

“Fuck!  Dean!  Ngh.  You feel so fucking good.” Sam moaned.  He moved his hips, thrusting into Dean as gently as he could. 

Dean bucked up underneath him, taking Sam deeper.  The pleasure of it ignited a white-hot fire in his belly. 

Sam didn’t need any more encouragement than that.  He fucked into Dean, setting a steady rhythm.  Their bodies dripped with sweat.  Hot breath panted wetly against each other’s mouths.  Dean dragged his nails down the slick corded muscles of Sam’s back, holding on for dear life like Sam was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.  He wanted to envelope Sam with his whole body until they inhabited the same skin, dovetailed together perfectly like they were always meant to be.

“Oh fuck, yes!  Yes!”  Sam kept hitting that spot inside him again and again that spiked his raw clawing need higher and higher.  It was consuming him, that frantic rush of too much and not enough.  Everything was Sam.  Hovering over him, grinding inside him, blanketing him with his touch, his scent, the taste of his skin in Dean’s mouth.  He was drowning in the love of his life and it was the sweetest death he’d ever felt.  Mindless and desperate to surrender himself over to it completely, he stroked his cock, feeling the heavy tension in his balls start to build. 

“Sam!  I can’t -- I’m gonna come.”

Sam started moving faster.  Pounding into him harder.  “Yes!  Come for me, Dean.  Wanna to see you come.”

Dean stroked himself hard and fast a few more times before it became too much and his orgasm broke in rolling wave of heat straight through him.  He came hard, shooting over his stomach and chest.  “Sammy!”

Dean’s muscles clamped down tight as he came, ripping an orgasm from Sam that had him shuddering violently.  His mouth fell open in a silent shout, long hair falling forward around his face.  He held fast to Dean as his body jerked and trembled with his release, anchoring them to each other.

Afterwards, they clung together in the afterglow in a tangle of limbs and sweat slick skin.  Dean’s whole body felt deliciously used and worshipped.  Sleep teased at the edges of his consciousness and for the first time in a long time he wasn’t scared of it at all.

Sam nuzzled against the nape of his neck.   “I love you.”

Dean sighed, linking his fingers with Sam’s.  “Love you too, Sammy.”

They fell asleep just like that, the curtains lifting and falling gently next to their bed with the ocean breeze. 


	9. Chapter 9

A few months later, Dean climbed out of the Impala and waved to their neighbor Tim down the street who was taking his dog for his evening walk.  Their friendly little exchange happened nearly every day and it still never ceased to make him smirk at how _normal_ it was.

“Anybody home?” he called out, shutting the front door behind him.

“Kitchen!” Sam answered.

Dean walked in to find Sam and Alissa sitting together at the kitchen table, each holding a glass of red wine.  Cas was stirring a big pasta pot on the stove and something else was bubbling in a large skillet on the stove.

“Hey Dean,” Alissa said smiling.  “Want a glass?”

Dean went right for Sam, tipping his head up for a short kiss hello before he answered her.  A man’s got to have priorities.  “No thanks.  I’m a beer guy.”

Sam rolled his eyes.  “One of these days we’re going to have to introduce you to some culture.”

“That’s not culture.  That’s aged grape juice.  What are you making, Cas?”

Cas tipped the skillet slightly to show him.  “Chicken cacciatore.  We’re having it with some rigatoni.”

Dean whistled appreciatively, grabbing a beer from the fridge.  “Awesome!  You’re really getting the hang of this cooking stuff.”

“Yeah he is.  And I’ve got the extra three pounds on my thighs to prove it,” Alissa joked.

Dean grabbed the chair next to Sam, turning it around so that he straddled it backwards.  He popped off the top of his beer and took a long sip.  There were few things better in life than a cold beer after a long hot day of swinging a hammer, Dean thought to himself.  Except for maybe Sam naked and squirming on the end of his cock.  But that would have to wait for later.

“How was work?” Sam asked him, placing a hand on his neck and rubbing lightly with his thumb.

Dean leaned into his touch.  He’d never get tired of Sam’s hands on him.  “Ed’s new client has a thing for skylights all of a sudden.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It is when you’ve got roofers who expected to be able to start tomorrow.  But whatever, we’ll manage.”  He gestured with his beer towards Alissa.  “How was your first day back at school?”

“Long,” Alissa sighed.  “But great.  They’re a sweet group of kids but wow they have so much energy.  They’re going to give me grey hair, I can tell.”

“How’s my best girl?  She getting along okay?”

“It’s kindergarten Dean,” Sam snorted, dropping his hand from Dean’s neck to reclaim his wineglass.  “It’s not like Marta was shipped off to war.”

“Shows what you know.  Kindergarten is war,” Alissa laughed.  “Marta’s an angel.  She’s doing just fine.  Well I wish I could stay, but it’s a school night,” Alissa said wearily.  She rose and kissed Cas’s cheek.  “We still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Cas replied.  He watched her go with a grin on his face.  She turned at the doorway to give him a little wave before she left.

As soon as the front door closed behind her, Sam exchanged a look with Cas.  He cleared his throat and squirmed a bit in his seat.  “I got a call from Garth today while I was at the library,” he told Dean.  “He said he’s got a case for us in Pittsburgh if we want it.  Sounds like a gremlin infestation to me.”

Dean looked from one of them to the other, both of them with anxious looks on their faces.  It had been a while since they’d had a hunt.  He and Sam hadn’t actually discussed what would happen when their little hiatus by the sea would end.  They’d already stayed much longer than they’d really intended to.

“Do you want us to take it?” he asked Sam, setting his beer down on the table.

Sam glanced at Cas.  “I wouldn’t mind a hunt but leaving here to go all the way to Pittsburgh…”

“Sam and I have discussed this earlier,” Cas piped up.  “If you decide to go, I won’t be joining you.  I have a life here now and someone who needs me.  I can’t jeopardize that.  I’m sorry.”

Dean rubbed his hand over his mouth, absorbing Cas’s words.  He’d never considered having to leave Cas behind but he understood where he was coming from.  “You don’t have to apologize for anything, man.  I get it.  You have to choose whatever life you think will make you happiest.  That’s what free will is all about, Cas,” Dean smiled at him ruefully.  “Welcome to the human race.”

“What about us?” Sam asked apprehensively.  “Are we hitting the road again?”

Dean thought about having to say goodbye to the Guerreros and it stung something fierce.  It occurred to him then that he and Sam had built a life here just as much as Cas had. 

He knew eventually that they’d have to let the bungalow go.  It didn’t belong to them after all.  But that didn’t mean that they couldn’t find another rental nearby.  Sam liked having the same roof and four walls to return to at the end of every day, a place to call home.  Dean didn’t need all that.  His idea of home had come off of an assembly line in Detroit and was custom fitted with a little green army man crammed into the ashtray.  But in all the ways that were really important, Dean’s home was Sam.  Outside of that, the details of their life really didn’t matter all that much.  If Sam wanted them to put down roots, then so be it.

He knew that Sam wanted to stay, even though he’d probably suck it up and go back on the road if that’s what Dean asked him to do.  But if he was honest with himself, he wanted to stay just as much as Sam did.  Maybe it was time he started taking his own advice.  Chose the life that would make them both happiest.

“I think we should tell Garth to pass this one along to somebody else.  Maybe he can give us a call next time he hears of something a little more local.  What do you think?”

Sam leaned over and kissed him, soft lips catching his and holding for the span of a heartbeat. 

“I think that’s a great idea.”

 

~~fin~~

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Safe Harbor (SPN) - Art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/902766) by [cybel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cybel/pseuds/cybel)




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